


One for sorrow, Two for joy

by barbitone



Series: Voltron Fanfiction [36]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Ableist Language, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Anal Sex, Arranged Marriage, Crying, Explicit Language, First Time, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Medieval AU, Oral Sex, Sex, Sexism, Sexist Language, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Violence, War, Whump, lotor whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2019-11-29 02:01:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 39,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18216695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barbitone/pseuds/barbitone
Summary: When the Galra invaded Shiro did his duty, fighting on the front lines. One battlefield promotion led to another until he was promoted to general, standing as the head of the Altean army. He defeated Zarkon and his men, but then Prince Lotor entered the field and Shiro found himself outmatched, outmaneuvered, and out of options. He was taken captive and stripped of everything that made him strong, forced into a sham marriage to keep a sham peace. Through it all, he slowly realized Prince Lotor wasn’t his enemy. Through it all, he realized he didn’t really understand much of what was happening at all.





	1. One for sorrow, Two for joy

**Author's Note:**

> For once I'm flying blind. I fully intend to finish this fic but as of now it's about 60% there but... I'm gonna start posting anyway.
> 
> Thanks to my amazing beta [Lutz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lutz/pseuds/lutz) for supporting me on this one :)
> 
> The title is from the magpies poem

 

 ********* Prologue *****

When the war began, Shiro was just a royal guard. He was good enough, rising steadily through the ranks, but not particularly notable. As Zarkon’s armies swept through Altea one battlefield promotion led to another, and by the time Shiro was captured he was a step away from becoming a general.

His subsequent escape became a thing of legend, a story told around campfires by exhausted blood-stained soldiers, a bit of hope in the darkness.

It hadn’t been glorious at all, of course. He’d lost two months to being tortured by the Galra and the King’s witch, he’d lost his right arm and so much more besides. His escape had been a fluke, fueled by naked desperation. The guard sent to retrieve him from his cell had been young and drunk and Shiro had overpowered him in a moment of overwhelming terror and adrenaline, bashed his head into the stone floor until he was barely more than a bloody smear.

It had been horrific and frantic. Pure luck had gotten him out of Zarkon’s dungeon and into the forest. Pure luck had Keith finding him passed out by a river and taking him back to their camp. Zarkon stopped taking prisoners after that, systematically killing anyone in his way instead.

Regardless of the truth, Shiro let the soldiers have their legends, even though he hated being called a hero. He was a murderer, but it was war- they all were.

That was when they started calling him the Black Lion, when Princess Allura promoted him to the rank of general. The Galra armies were deep in Altean territory by then and fall was turning to merciless winter. The Galra were a desert people; they were unused to rain, to snow, to hail. Shiro’s spies reported that Galra weapons and armor had started to rust, their clothes to mildew and tear, their food to spoil. Illness rampaged through Zarkon’s camps, dysentery and fever and malnutrition took more soldiers than any of Shiro’s men had. The army from Daibazaal started to falter, and for the first time since the conflict began Shiro started to hope.

He led the charge that was meant to end the war- he fought Zarkon to a standstill and dealt him a mortal blow before General Sendak arrived with reinforcements and Shiro called for the Altean army to retreat.

Still- they celebrated that night. It wasn’t exactly over, not yet, but once Zarkon died surely it would be.

Of course, two weeks later _he_ came- the Prince no one had known existed, Prince Lotor.

He rode into their camp on a snow-white mare, dressed in pristine white robes and flanked by four women decked out in much the same way. His long white hair flowed behind him and caught the moonlight like silver, his face was a blank mask devoid of human emotion. He was statuesque not only in his beauty but also in the cold emptiness in his eyes- like he wasn’t a man at all but a specter.

And then he’d drawn his sword, his women following suit, and their blades burst into haunting blue flames.

The five of them alone wreaked such havoc and destruction that night that it was nearly the end of the Altean army altogether. They galloped through the camp setting fire to the tents, the supply wagons, the livestock pens. They moved too quickly to be caught and they looked so strange and fearsome, like avenging wights glowing in the moonlight, that no matter how loudly Shiro yelled for his soldiers to stand and _fight_ they only scattered in fear.

They were gone almost as soon as they’d come, and if it weren’t for the thick blanket of freshly-fallen snow the entire camp may have burnt down.

After that the Prince took control of Zarkon’s armies and harried the Alteans mercilessly. Zarkon’s tactic of choice had been to line up his men and march them forward, destroying anyone and anything in their way.

Prince Lotor was nothing like him. He was adaptable and cunning, he sent scouts ahead to mark the terrain and split his army into smaller groups, adopting the Altean guerrilla tactics of striking hard and without warning before retreating into the forest. He fought on the front lines with his men, wearing white robes over his gleaming silver armor. He never wore a helmet. His white hair, tied back into a braid after that first night, was a beacon for Shiro’s archers but they never hit their mark.

Shiro sent assassins after him but they all disappeared without a trace. He sent spies to poison Galra food stores, sabotage their equipment, steal their horses. Somehow Prince Lotor always saw him coming and all of Shiro’s efforts came to nothing.

As time went on, the mere sight of him across a battlefield sent shivers down Shiro’s spine and left his soldiers quaking with fear. Slowly they were being ground to nothing and they all knew it.

The final battle started at noon, though the skies were so dark with heavy storm clouds it looked to be evening time, and ended when King Zarkon rode onto the field whole and hale as though risen from the dead. Shiro hacked his way through Galra troops through sheer force of will, despair threatening to drown him with each shallow breath he took. He knew it was the end- for him, for all of them. But there was one thing he wanted to do before death came for him- he wanted to drag Zarkon to hell.

In the end he didn’t even get the satisfaction of facing him. General Sendak intercepted him and dragged him from his horse, and as they fought the skies opened up and spilled icy rain over the battlefield until the ground was a mess of mud and viscera and blood mixed together like one of the witch’s foul potions.

When Shiro fell, the Altean troops broke. Some ran, most dropped to their knees in surrender. Shiro let his head drop back into the mud as he stared up at Sendak above him, his black leather eyepatch glistening with rain and his other eye narrowed with vicious satisfaction.

And that was the end of it.

 

***** Part I: One For Sorrow, Two For Joy *****

 

He’d expected Sendak to kill him, but he’d punched Shiro in the face instead, leaving him stunned and reeling. Sendak dragged him up out of the mud before taking him back to the Galra camp. Maybe he was to be publicly executed, maybe he was to be presented to Zarkon, or given back to his witch.

They stripped him of his weapons and armor and left him tied to a stake in the center of their camp for a while and then Sendak was back and dragging him into a tent. He shoved Shiro to the ground inside and Shiro caught himself on his hand with a small gasp. The painfully stark tent was lit by a few candles, not at all what he’d expected for one of Zarkon’s top generals, and then he looked up and realized it wasn’t Sendak’s tent he’d been brought to.

His breath caught in his throat when he saw the man sitting at the camp desk. Somehow his long white hair was still pristine despite everything.

Prince Lotor rose and turned at the intrusion, frowning faintly. His eyes were rimmed with red and he looked pale and exhausted. His hands were shaking faintly and there was dirt under his fingernails and for some reason Shiro couldn’t look away, all his attention focused on that one insignificant detail. The illusion of the untouchable specter was broken and suddenly Prince Lotor was just a man like any other.

“What is this?” he asked quietly. Shiro shivered at the sound of his voice, lower than he’d expected given his delicate features.

Sendak laughed, sharp and cruel. “A gift,” he said with a smirk. He stepped forward to run a finger over Lotor’s cheek, smudging dirt over his skin while Lotor stood impassively. “I know how cold you get during the nights. Maybe he could warm you up.”

There was some jab in Sendak’s tone but Lotor didn’t seem offended, just blank as usual.

“Thank you,” he said.

“That’s all?” Sendak asked, tilting his head to the side.

Shiro had only ever seen Prince Lotor on horseback, and now that he was this close he was shocked at how much _smaller_ he seemed. Sendak loomed over him, his shoulders nearly twice as broad as the Prince’s, and he had at least a head on him in height.

“I was expecting a bit more gratitude,” Sendak said with a frown. He reached for Lotor’s face again but this time anger flashed in the Prince’s eyes and he slapped Sendak’s hand away.

“That’s all,” he said. “Get out.”

Shiro could only watch in shock as Sendak snarled and backhanded Lotor over the face, the sound of it loud in the empty tent. How could a mere General dare raise a hand to the King’s own son?

Lotor worked his jaw slowly as he straightened. “Are you finished?” he asked, no trace of emotion left in his tone.

Sendak scowled and turned on his heel, storming out.

Lotor turned and looked directly at Shiro, and Shiro felt a jolt pass through him. Lotor’s eyes were such a deep blue they were nearly purple. He’d never known that, before.

“Why am I here?” Shiro asked, his voice coming out in a hoarse whisper.

Lotor stared at him for a long moment before turning away. He raised his hands to the clasps of his armor and started undressing, setting each piece carefully on a wooden stand. Why didn’t he have a squire? Servants? Why was his tent no better than that of a mere Sergeant?

“Because they know I prefer to be alone after battle. Or perhaps it’s because they hope you’ll kill me in my sleep,” Lotor said, voice low. He’d finished with his armor and moved on to remove his gambeson, moving stiffly. Shiro watched as he peeled the fabric away, wincing as it pulled on a gash over his upper arm.

“Are you going to try?” Lotor asked, sitting before rolling up the sleeve of his tunic. He poured liquor over a threadbare handkerchief and started cleaning his wound.

“What would be the point?” Shiro asked, watching as Lotor opened a small box set out on his table, retrieving a spool of thread and a needle.

“I don’t know,” Lotor said, stoic as he started to stitch the gash closed. Why didn’t he have anyone to do this for him? Why wasn’t there a medic here to take care of their Prince?

“I don’t know what the point of any of this was,” Lotor continued thoughtfully. “Killing for the sake of killing, I suppose.”

Shiro watched, entranced by his slow even movements. “You’re not what I expected,” he said as Lotor bandaged his wound.

“What did you expect?” Lotor asked.

“You were brutal on the battlefield, cunning and clever. You foiled our every effort to best you like it was nothing. My men called you the White Lion, because they thought you were the only man that was a match for me. At least half of them were convinced you were some sort of avenging ghost, come to punish us for Zarkon’s death.”

Lotor pursed his lips before speaking. “A lion? How curious. It seems your men respect me more than my own.”

“But you’re the Prince.”

“The Galra throne is not passed down by blood. My title means nothing. I’m just a dog, and a mongrel at that. I was called to heel and I had no choice but to come. That’s the end of it.”

“So what happens now?” Shiro asked. “What will happen to me?”

“I don’t know.”

“You do,” Shiro said.

Lotor sighed heavily, putting away the needle and thread before looking down at his faintly shaking hands. “You escaped the King’s prison, you kept his armies at bay for longer than should have been possible and then you nearly killed him. He’ll find a way to hurt and humiliate you the way he feels you hurt and humiliated him. By the end of it, you’ll probably wish you were dead.”

“Thank you,” Shiro said. Lotor looked over at him sharply and Shiro was surprised to find himself smiling. “For being honest.”

The candlelight was playing oddly in his eyes as he watched Shiro from across the room. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” Shiro said. “Just tired.”

“Feel free to rest,” Lotor said, motioning towards a pile of furs in the corner. It was barely big enough for one man, much less two.

“Where will you sleep?”

“Nowhere,” Lotor said quietly. “There’s no place for me anywhere at all, much less here- now that my bloody work is finished.”

Shiro didn’t know what to say to that, to any of it. He rose and nearly feel over as his knees threatened to buckle. His joints were stiff with the cold and it was a relief to burrow into the thick furs.

Despite his exhaustion he couldn’t help watching Lotor sitting at the table, cleaning his fingernails methodically with the tip of a dagger. Shiro couldn’t be sure, but he thought Lotor’s shoulders were shaking, like maybe he was weeping.

Shiro was too exhausted to puzzle it out. It didn’t matter now anyway. What would happen would happen. Either way, he was finished.

 

* * *

 

Shiro woke to the sound of quiet voices and opened his eyes slowly to see what was happening. Lotor was standing by the small table talking to one of his generals, one of the shorter ones, the one with violet hair cropped close to her chin.

“-this again,” she hissed, pointing to a tray of food on the table. Shiro frowned as he took in the pitiful sight- even from his spot in the corner he could see that the bread was tainted with mold, he could smell the strange brown-colored slop heaped up beside it. It smelled like refuse at best. “This is what they brought you?”

“Don’t get agitated, Acxa,” Lotor said quietly. “You’ll only make it worse.”

“This is-” she broke off with a huff, crossing her arms over her chest. “You won their war for them and still this is how they treat you? Please, let’s just- let’s go home.”

“We can’t,” Lotor said. “You know we can’t.”

“Fine,” she said. “But don’t you _dare_ eat this garbage. We should still have something in our private stores- I’ll have Narti bring you something better.”

 _“Acxa,”_ he said, sounding infinitely pained.

“Don’t you _dare_ ,” she said, poking him firmly in the chest. “Throw it in the chamberpot if you feel the need to return an empty plate. If you eat it I’ll kill you.”

“Have her bring something for him as well.”

“He can starve.”

“Acxa-”

“We might all starve then, but _fine._ Fine, Lotor. I’ll tell her.”

Shiro feigned sleep as she left and Lotor moved around the room, putting his armor back on. He must have cleaned and polished it during the night because it was fresh and gleaming again. Shiro drifted for a while longer before the other general, Narti, arrived.

He watched through his eyelashes as she set down a bundle of folded up white cloth- a fresh set of robes- and a leather satchel. Lotor made a hand signal, touching his lips before bringing his hand forward. She nodded and signaled back. They spoke for a while through their strange silent language, and then Lotor brought his hands up to his shoulders and brushed them twice down his chest before motioning to Shiro, still pretending to be asleep in the pile of furs.

Narti shrugged and signaled something else before leaving.

Lotor was silent for a long moment before donning the robe and opening the satchel to peer inside. “Time to wake, Black Lion,” he said quietly.

Shiro sat up, trying not to wince as his aching muscles protested. It was cold in the tent and he dragged one of the furs closer to wrap it around himself.

“There’s not enough water for bathing,” Lotor said, “but there’s enough to drink, at least. And there’s breakfast.”

He tossed the satchel and a waterskin over to him. Shiro drank the water greedily before opening the satchel to find some simple fare- jerky, cheese, a small packet of hardtack. It wasn’t much, barely enough for one man. He grabbed a piece of jerky to gnaw on before offering the satchel back.

Lotor shook his head. “It’s for you, I’ve already eaten.”

He said it with such conviction that Shiro would have believed him if he hadn’t already known it was a lie. Still, he couldn’t say anything without revealing that he’d been awake for longer than he’d let on, and he was ravenous.

Shiro felt strange, like he was in some sort of odd dream. This time yesterday he’d been leading his army, and now he was a prisoner. The end of the war hadn’t fully registered, much less the implications of it all. Somehow it seemed easier to focus on the mystery of Prince Lotor before him.

He’d expected a zealous murderer, a cruel general- the man behind the specter was something far stranger.

Narti returned with a thick black cloak and Lotor made that gesture again, bringing his fingers up to his lips.

“Come- we’re leaving. We’re returning to Daibazaal,” Lotor said, tossing the cloak over to him.

Shiro stood unsteadily, draping the cloak over his shoulders. It was musty, smelling faintly of blood and sweat, but it was warm enough and Shiro was in no position to be picky.

“I’m sure they’ll have things to say,” Lotor continued. “It’s best just to stay silent. Come.”

Shiro couldn’t help wincing at the bright sunlight as he followed Lotor out of the tent. In the light of day he could see they were close to the center of the Galra camp, surrounded by soldiers and tents, cooking fires and animal pens. He hadn’t really seriously considered trying to escape, and now he could see that was just as well. He had no hope of managing it, not while he was in the midst of Zarkon’s army.

The whispers rose almost immediately, too quiet for Shiro to make out what the soldiers were saying. And then Sendak strode up to them, running a predatory gaze down Lotor’s body.

“You look tired,” he said with a mean smirk. “Spent all night riding the Lion, did you? How is he? As well-endowed as they say?”

Laughter rose around them but Lotor didn’t seem at all perturbed. “I’m surprised you’d be interested in the lurid details,” he said flatly. “I didn’t take you for a deviant.”

Sendak scowled and tightened his hands into fists. “Learn to recognize a joke, Lotor. Are you and your bitches ready to ride?”

“My generals and I are quite ready,” Lotor said. “But the Black Lion needs a mount.”

“He has you, doesn’t he?” Sendak laughed again, a few nearby soldiers joining him.

“Was that another joke, General Sendak?” Lotor asked. “If you’d like me to laugh, I’d appreciate it if you’d warn me ahead of time. Now, regarding the mount-”

Sendak’s mood soured again and he glared over at Shiro. “I was planning on putting him on a leash and dragging him behind my horse.”

“That would only slow us down,” Lotor said evenly. “I, for one, would like to be out of this wretched weather as soon as possible. Surely there’s a horse for him somewhere-”

“We don’t have horses for Altean scum,” Sendak hissed. “If you’re so concerned about him- figure it out yourself. We leave now.”

He turned to walk away and Shiro startled as he felt someone step up next to him. He turned his head to see Acxa, glaring after Sendak’s retreating form. She spit on the ground before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“I swear on all that is holy, one day that bastard will get what’s coming to him,” she muttered. “I’ll scalp him myself for how he talks to you-”

“Watch yourself,” Lotor said sharply. “Are Ezor and Zethrid ready?”

“Yeah,” she said.

“Can we find another horse?”

“Doubt it.”

“We’ll make do.” He turned to Shiro, looking him up and down. “You’ll ride with me, for now. In a few hours we’ll rotate mounts to let the horses rest.”

“No,” Acxa said. “Are you crazy? They’ll talk.”

“It’s just talk,” Lotor said. “Don’t take it so personally.”

“It’s just talk _now_ ,” she said. “It wasn’t always, and at this rate it won’t be for much longer. He rides with me.”

“As you like,” Lotor said as two women walked up leading five horses.

“What did Sendak want?” the largest asked.

“The usual,” Acxa muttered, “a thorough ass-whooping. As usual, Lotor refuses to give it to him.”

“That’s _enough,”_ Lotor said. “Mount up.”

Acxa continued to grumble under her breath as she climbed up into her saddle before turning and offering Shiro a hand up.

“Aren’t you going to… shackle me?” he asked.

“Why?”

“So that I don’t escape?”

Acxa laughed. “Feel free to escape whenever you like, Black Lion. I’m sure none of us could care less. You might want to wait until you’re not in the middle of the army, though. But that’s just a bit of friendly advice. Now- do you want a ride or would you rather get dragged behind Sendak’s horse?”

Shiro took her hand and mounted up behind her. He watched as Lotor climbed up onto his snow-white mare, the other generals following his lead.

This was so _strange-_ all of it. Why would the Galra troops follow him into battle and yet disrespect him right to his face? Why the sly comments? Why did Lotor and his Generals seem so painfully isolated from the rest of the troops?

They’d killed so many of Shiro’s men, they’d been the downfall of Altea- and yet Shiro couldn’t help the wave of sympathy he felt for all of them. Clearly they didn’t want to be here, didn’t sympathize with Zarkon’s cause. Why had they come, then?

Shiro realized that despite nearly a year of war he knew painfully little of the Galra and their culture, their way of life. Maybe he was fixated on it now to distract himself from thoughts of what would happen to Altea now, from his own fate, from what Lotor had said.

_He’ll find a way to hurt and humiliate you the way he feels you hurt and humiliated him. By the end of it, you’ll probably wish you were dead._

Shiro felt numb as they started moving, the even steps of the horse below him lulling him into a meditative state. He couldn’t help watching Lotor riding ahead of them, the way his hair swayed with the motions of his horse, with the gentle breeze.

They traveled for a few hours before taking a short break.

“How heavy are you?” Acxa asked, examining him critically. “Fifteen stone? I don’t think my horse can handle the added weight much longer.”

Narti made a few quick hand motions and Acxa nodded.

“Alright,” she said. “Narti says you can ride with her.”

Shiro didn’t protest, just climbed up behind the hooded woman when it was time to start again. After the next break he traveled with Ezor, the one with the high ponytail and the golden hoops in her ears. And then it was night time and they were setting up camp again.

Zethrid, the big one, did most of the work putting up a large tent while the others worked on getting a fire started and fetching food and water. Lotor took care of the horses, methodically brushing them down and cleaning their hooves, whispering to them softly as he fed them treats. Shiro was struck all over again by the strangeness of it all, by the way no one moved to help.

Acxa returned with two freshly-killed rabbits and Ezor prepared them and roasted them. They ate quietly around the fire, an island of calm in a sea of celebration. Most of the troops were drinking and singing, some even dancing drunkenly around their fires.

“I’ll keep watch,” Lotor said once they were finished with supper.

“No,” Acxa said. “Let Ezor and Zethrid do it. You need to sleep tonight.”

“I’m fine.”

“We’re not having this argument again,” Acxa said firmly. “Come on. You too, Black Lion,” she said with a glance towards Shiro.

He followed them into the tent, surprised to see there was a small pallet set up in the corner next to a larger pile of furs and blankets.

“That’s for you, go to sleep,” Acxa said, motioning to the pallet before turning her back on him.

Shiro did as he was told, lying down and getting settled as he watched the scene before him curiously.

Lotor seemed oddly lost as Acxa and Narti pulled off his robes and armor, setting it all carefully aside before drawing him over to the pile of furs. Acxa lay down before pulling him in with her, arranging him so his head was pillowed on her shoulder before drawing blankets around them.

“Still cold?” she murmured quietly as she stroked his hair.

Shiro couldn’t make out Lotor’s muffled response, and then Narti lay down too, curling up around his back, and he was out of sight. Slowly Shiro was lulled to sleep by Acxa’s quiet whispering, too low to sound like little more than a soothing hum, and then it was morning and they rose to do it all again.

They traveled like this for at least two weeks, the climate slowly getting warmer the closer they got to Daibazaal. With each day that passed Shiro felt dread rising higher inside him. Forest turned to open plains, and then to rocky desolate desert.

He couldn’t be sure, but he thought Lotor and his generals were full of dread now, too. They talked less as the army marched closer to the capital city, and on the night that the city’s fires first came into view, they didn’t speak at all.

The following morning Sendak showed up to their tent to take Shiro away. He stripped off Shiro’s cloak and tunic and threw a bucket of ice cold water over him. It was the closest thing to a bath Shiro had had in weeks. Afterwards Sendak looped rope around his neck and finally made good on his threat of dragging Shiro behind his horse.

That was how they entered the city. The streets were lined with cheering Galra that welcomed their army home in the same breath as hurling abuse at Shiro being marched down the street before them.

Oddly enough a sense of calm stole over him at that, even as they hurled trash and moldy fruits and vegetables at him. This was more like the treatment he’d been expecting. He could understand this, in a way he didn’t understand his time with Lotor and his generals.

Shiro glanced back only once during the journey through the city, but he couldn’t catch sight of Lotor’s distinctive form anywhere. It was like he’d vanished into thin air. Instead Sendak led the column, claiming Lotor’s victory and glory for himself. Shiro found himself unreasonably angry at that and didn’t know why.

And then he was being shoved into a dank cell and shut away into darkness.

 

 


	2. Three for a girl, Four for a boy

 

* * *

 

Shiro wasn’t sure how much time passed. It was impossible to know in the eternal darkness. They fed him twice a day, but sometimes it seemed that they forgot, and by the end of it Shiro wasn’t sure if two weeks had passed or three.

And then something changed. There was a figure in white approaching his cell and he was surprised at himself, at how relieved he was to see Lotor standing before him.

“Come along,” Lotor said quietly, unlocking the door. “The treaty has been finalized. Your attendance is required and you need to be presentable.”

“What are the terms?” he asked as he followed Lotor through the halls, his voice rough with disuse.

“Harsh,” Lotor said. “But I suppose it could be worse. Altea will be considered a part of the newly-established Galra Empire. They will pay heavy tribute and defer to Emperor Zarkon on all major matters. But they will retain their sovereignty otherwise.”

“And what’s to become of me?” Shiro asked.

“I don’t know anything beyond what I’ve already told you.”

Shiro chuckled quietly. “I’ll wish I were dead. I remember.”

Lotor didn’t say anything else as he led Shiro to a small bathing chamber. He waited outside while Shiro got undressed and submerged himself in hot water, groaning with pleasure. He lingered with the soap, making sure to wash as thoroughly as he could. It was pure bliss, and for just a moment he let his fears grow silent. He spent nearly an hour in the bath, but by the end of it he felt like a new man.

Shiro dried himself off carefully before donning the clothes that had been set out for him: fine boots of supple black leather, a simple black tunic and trousers, and over it all- a rich black robe trimmed in gold.

Lotor was waiting for him out in the hallway and he nodded tightly when Shiro emerged.

“Come along,” he said, not waiting for Shiro to follow before walking away.

Shiro trailed after him until they reached the throne room, a large hall with soaring vaulted ceilings. The back wall was a huge stained-glass window depicting two warriors- one in red and the other in gold. They towered over the hall like giants, or gods, tinting the light of the setting sun into vivid red and gold hues.

The window was the only form of decoration, the rest of the room was cold bare stone. Torches were set at regular intervals in the walls but stood unlit for now. The hall was full of silent spectators, Galra warriors and guards and generals. There were even servants lining the halls, tense and still as they held pitchers of wine and platters of refreshments.

Shiro looked past the strangers to the raised platform before the window, to Zarkon sitting on his throne of twisted metal- and paused with a quiet gasp. Princess Allura was there, looking at him nervously while Coran and Keith stood beside her.

Lotor was still walking and that jolted Shiro into movement again. He followed until they stopped a respectful distance from the dais.

Zarkon rose from his throne, his witch hovering at his shoulder. He seemed strange and fearsome, different than the last time Shiro had seen him up close. His skin was gray and ashy, his eyes were oddly bright, almost like they were glowing.

“Now that we’ve come to an agreement, it’s time to seal it. What better way than with a marriage pact?”

Shiro could only wait, frozen as Zarkon spoke.

“A marriage pact?” Princess Allura asked incredulously. “Between who?”

Zarkon smirked. “Between my son, Prince Lotor,” he said, “and your general. The Black Lion.” Shocked whispers rose through the hall, and with them- stifled laughter.

“That isn’t what we agreed,” Keith said loudly, stepping forward even as Coran grabbed his arm. “We want him back. You said you’d give him back.”

“Keith,” Shiro said, his voice echoing loudly through the room. Keith looked up at him, his eyes glittering with unshed tears.

“Lotor,” Zarkon said sharply.

Shiro heard Lotor’s quiet intake of breath, and then he was stepping forward and dropping to one knee, bowing his head. “I live to obey, sire. If this is what you require of me, I will do as you say.”

Someone laughed outright, the sound of it jagged and cruel.

“Shiro?” Allura asked quietly.

Shiro looked at her, at Keith, at Coran. And then he looked at Lotor, pale as he knelt on the floor. He seemed so alone.

Shiro’s heart ached at the sight of him, kneeling before Zarkon while everyone looked on with thinly veiled disgust.

He couldn’t go home, he knew that much for sure. Zarkon wouldn’t allow him to simply _leave_. For some reason this was supposed to be his punishment, the fate worse than death, and he was going to take it before Zarkon thought of something worse.

In the end it really wasn’t so difficult to step forward to kneel beside Lotor and duck his head. He wondered briefly at the picture they made- Lotor in white and Shiro in black. Two sides of the war, kneeling together before the tyrant’s throne. It seemed like such a small price to pay.

He wasn’t sure what to say, what the protocol was. He didn’t want to offend Zarkon, for the offer to be rescinded. He echoed what Lotor had said, his voice loud in the sudden silence.

“If this is what you require of me, I will do as you say.”

Zarkon smirked, staring down at him, and suddenly Shiro was full of fear- sure that he’d made the wrong choice, that he’d blundered into something more dangerous than he understood.

“Tonight,” Zarkon said. “We’ll seal this alliance for good.”

 

* * *

 

The next few hours seemed to drag on forever. Shiro was left alone in a small study for most of it, and then Lotor returned looking pale and blank as ever.

Shiro wanted to ask what was wrong but something in Lotor’s expression made him pause.

“It’s time,” Lotor said quietly.

Shiro stood and followed him out of the study and back into the throne room.

The actual ceremony was a blur, a collection of disjointed moments that stood out in Shiro’s memory. He was vaguely aware of walking down the length of the throne room with Lotor beside him, vaguely aware of standing before a strange old man as he droned on about something or other. The old man bid Shiro to take Lotor’s hand and he couldn’t help shivering when he did. It was the first time they’d ever touched and Lotor was so _cold_ , like he really was a ghost, or a statue.

The old man bound their hands together with a red ribbon and they took turns drinking bitter liquor out of a golden chalice. There was some sort of vow that Shiro repeated without quite hearing the words coming out of his own mouth and the old man was raising his hands to declare their union sealed to the resounding sound of absolute silence from the assembled guests.

Shiro looked down at where he still held Lotor’s hand in a loose grip. In lieu of rings, a piece of the red ribbon was tied around his wrist, both their wrists, and he frowned. He didn’t remember that happening.

Lotor pulled out of his grasp and then they were headed into the banquet hall. Shiro found himself sitting with Lotor on one side and Zarkon on the other. It was odd, to say the least. Lotor was like a block of ice beside him, practically radiating tension. He didn’t speak, didn’t drink, didn’t eat.

Zarkon was the opposite- he was voracious as he devoured everything put in front of him, drank cup after cup of wine. He seemed to be in excellent spirits, and every time he laughed Shiro couldn’t hold back a flinch.

At midnight soldiers came to escort Shiro away, and he was shocked to find himself in a lavish set of rooms decorated with tapestries marked by Zarkon’s sigil.

“Wait,” he said. “Wait, what-”

“Prima nocta,” one of the guards said, looking down at him with pity. “Didn’t you know?”

“What-?” Shiro breathed out.

The second guard laughed. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

They left and Shiro found himself nearly choking on his dread. He paced the room, looking around restlessly for- something. A way out, a weapon. He could climb out the window, he could try to fight back, he could do any number of things but what would happen to the treaty then? What would happen to Altea? And- Shiro was surprised at himself for even considering it- what would happen to Lotor? Would he face ridicule if his so-called husband were to run off? Would he be punished?

Shiro knew already that he wouldn’t run, wouldn’t fight. Instead he tried to come to terms with the fact that Zarkon was about to come in here and- and _fuck_ him-

It seemed like a long time passed, and then the door opened and Acxa was there.

“What-” Shiro breathed out.

She grinned darkly. “As it happens, the Emperor is… indisposed. He won’t be performing his duty to you tonight, or ever. Come along.”

Shiro practically ran out to join her, and then she was leading him through a twisting set of dark corridors. She paused before a nondescript door, grabbing him tightly by the front of his robes and giving him a sudden shake that Shiro was too surprised to resist.

“If you hurt him,” she said, her voice low and trembling, “I will reach down your throat and pull out your guts. Do you understand me, Black Lion?”

“I’m not going to hurt him,” Shiro said.

She stared at him for a moment longer before letting go and stepping back. “He’s had a rough day. Don’t make it worse.”

She left and Shiro took that as his cue to open the door, revealing a modest set of rooms. He stepped inside, looking around uncertainly. The first thing he saw was Lotor- sitting at a dining table lit by a single candle.

He was cradling a half empty bottle of whiskey in his hand, his eyes suspiciously bright.

“Lotor?” Shiro asked, sitting at the table beside him. “What did you do?”

Lotor raised the bottle to his lips, drinking deeply. He set it to the table with a clang before exhaling a shuddering breath. Shiro took the bottle for himself, taking a deep swig.

“This sham of a marriage is meant to debase both of us,” Lotor said, slurring his words. “But I’ll be _damned_ if I let my- my- _father_ -” he spit out the word like it was something foul. “I won’t let him- you don’t deserve that.”

“Thank you,” Shiro said quietly.

Lotor grimaced, grabbing the bottle out of Shiro’s hand to take another drink. “I haven’t done anything worthy of your gratitude, Black Lion.” He stood from the table and stumbled, swaying unsteadily on his feet.

“How drunk are you?” Shiro asked, standing too and pulling the bottle out of his slack grip before setting it back to the table.

“Very,” Lotor managed as Shiro ducked under his shoulder and wrapped his arm around his waist. Lotor shivered in his grasp and Shiro couldn’t help gripping him tighter. He was so painfully thin. He was just a man after all, no matter how cold he felt to the touch, no matter how pronounced his ribs were, how stoic he seemed most of the time. Shiro was beginning to suspect he was a _good_ man, too- just as much a victim of his father as the rest of them.

Shiro was used to things being black and white, to people being allies or enemies. And now everything was different. Now he found himself caring about the man that had caused his people’s destruction. How had everything gotten so twisted?

“Come on,” Shiro muttered, leading him over to the room he assumed was the bedroom.

He sat Lotor down on the bed before kneeling to pull off his boots, and then his robes. He was boneless and utterly useless as Shiro unbuckled his armor, setting it down on the floor for lack of a better place to put it. Once Lotor was down to his tunic and trousers he fell back to the bed and threw his arm over his eyes, breathing hard.

“Are you going to fuck me?” he asked quietly.

“What?” Shiro asked, pausing in the middle of pulling off his own robes.

“Are you going to fuck me?” Lotor asked again, looking at him. “You’d be well within your rights to, now that we’re married. You must be angry with me for what I’ve done. I won’t fight back.”

Shiro exhaled sharply as he took in Lotor laid out on the bed before him. He was so beautiful, especially now- with his cheeks flushed with drink and his hair wild over the pillows, the neck of his tunic revealing the long line of his throat and his delicate collar bones.

“In Altea that sort of thing is done for mutual pleasure, not as some kind of revenge.”

“We’re not in Altea,” Lotor whispered, staring blankly up at the ceiling. “It’s true what they say about me.”

“Go to sleep,” Shiro said. “I’m not going to-“ he broke off uncertainly. “I won’t…”

“I see,” Lotor said, turning to his side. “I apologize for suggesting it. I should have realized you found me repulsive.”

 _“Lotor,”_ Shiro said sharply, horrified and confused about what was happening.

“Apologies, Black Lion,” Lotor whispered.

“You can call me by my name now,” Shiro said. “After everything.”

Lotor was silent for a long moment and then he laughed and the sound of it sent a cold shiver down Shiro’s spine.

“I don’t know it. Even after all this, after everything- I don’t know it.”

Shiro sat heavily on the bed, looking down at the red ribbon tied around his wrist. “My name is Takashi Shirogane. Shiro, for short.”

He pulled off his boots and lay down. Lotor didn’t say anything else so Shiro sighed, turning on his side and pulling the blanket over himself. “Good night, Lotor,” he said.

For a long time there was no answer, and then he heard a small wet sound like Lotor had parted his lips.

“Good night. Shiro.”

 

* * *

 

Shiro didn’t sleep well. Lotor tossed and turned beside him, crying out in his sleep. Shiro was too unsettled to sleep regardless, catching a few minutes of rest here and there before the light of dawn broke through the window.

When he woke for good he was surprised to find himself alone in bed and dressed quickly before entering the main room. Lotor was sitting at the dining table, perfectly composed again as he picked at his breakfast- a plate of what looked like rice and eggs smothered in a red sauce.

“Good morning,” Shiro said carefully. He wondered if Lotor remembered what he’d said last night. If he did, he made no mention of it now.

“Hmm,” Lotor said, frowning before he dropped his fork to his untouched plate and pushed it away.

“What’s wrong?” Shiro asked. “Don’t you eat?”

Lotor grimaced before standing. “They spit in my food. I’m not hungry enough yet to put up with it.”

There was a knock on the door and Acxa walked in, glaring at Shiro briefly before coming closer.

“Breakfast,” she muttered, shoving a bag of jerky into Lotor’s hands. “I’m done with this. Let’s go home.”

“If only,” Lotor said.

“How difficult can it be to get sent back into exile?” Acxa asked, sitting casually in a chair before putting her feet up on the table. “Just tell him his cloak is ugly or something. Talk back. Knee Sendak in the balls.”

Lotor turned away but not before Shiro caught the sharp edge of his frown.

He sat at the table and pulled Lotor’s untouched plate closer.

“What are you doing?” Lotor asked.

“Eating breakfast,” Shiro said as he picked up the fork. “So what if they spit in it? It’s still better than dry jerky and water. A month ago I was eating soggy bread and counting myself lucky if it was full of worms. I’m not so picky.”

Axca laughed and Shiro lowered his head to hide his own smile. He carefully picked out the clump of rice with the glob of spit in it and tucked it away into a napkin before getting started on the rest. It was mostly fine, though a little too spicy for his taste, and it was significantly better than what he’d gotten used to over the past year anyway.

“The Emperor will be angry today,” Lotor said. “It would be best for us to stay out of sight at least until tomorrow. But your people are leaving now, and I’m sure you’d like to say your goodbyes.”

“I would appreciate that,” Shiro said.

“We can meet them in the stables,” Lotor said.

“It’s a bad idea,” Acxa muttered.

“If we’re lucky he’s still asleep-”

“But _Sendak_ will be prowling the halls.”

“When is he not?” Lotor asked. “If we waited to live our lives until _Sendak_ wasn’t around we’d all shrivel away.”

“Fine,” Acxa sighed. “I’ll take point- you and the Black Lion can follow.”

“My name is Shiro,” Shiro said firmly.

“Whatever,” Acxa said, rolling her eyes. “Come on.”

Shiro wasn’t entirely sure if he wasn’t actually dreaming as he followed Lotor and Acxa as they snuck through the halls. He’d been feeling like that a lot lately and he had to stifle a laugh. It was ridiculous- it was all so completely bizarre.

And then they were walking into the stables through some hidden back door and Shiro couldn’t help smiling as he saw Keith and Allura and Coran, talking quietly as they got ready to leave.

“Shiro?” Keith asked as he saw him.

“Yeah,” Shiro said with a smile. “Keith-”

But Keith didn’t seem happy at all, he was glowering as he strode over, as he brought his hand back, winding his fist up to swing.

Shiro realized what was happening a split second before anyone else.

 _“Keith,”_ he growled as he grabbed Keith’s wrist just before his fist would have connected with Lotor’s jaw. He used Keith’s momentum to yank him around and twist his arm behind his back.

“You bastard!” Keith yelled, turning to spit in Lotor’s face.

Lotor barely flinched but Acxa snarled, springing forward.

“How _dare_ you-” she yelled.

“Acxa!” Lotor cried out, grabbing her to pull her back even as Shiro dragged a struggling Keith away.

“Stop it,” Shiro hissed. “Stop!”

“General Shirogane,” Allura said awkwardly.

“Shiro- come home with us,” Keith pleaded. “Come home! You can’t stay here, with _him_ -”

“Keith,” Shiro said firmly. “Keith- it’s alright. Everything is going to be alright. You have to go now, do you understand?”

“Shiro-” Keith gasped, breathing hard.

“No,” Shiro said. “I have to stay here. I’m going to be fine, alright? I’m going to be fine. I need you to go.”

Keith gasped and stumbled back, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

 _“Keith,”_ Shiro said.

“Fine,” Keith breathed out. “Fine- just-”

“Yeah,” Shiro said, yanking him in closer to wrap his arm around him. “Try not to cause any trouble, alright? Keep the peace.”

“We’ll do our best, General Shirogane,” Princess Allura said quietly. “Thank you. For your sacrifice.”

“We’ve all sacrificed,” Shiro said. “Please- stay safe. Don’t worry about me anymore.”

Princess Allura nodded before throwing a nervous look Lotor’s way.

“Go, Keith,” Shiro said, pushing him away. “You have to go.”

Keith frowned, glaring at Lotor as Acxa scowled and stepped forward protectively.

Shiro watched as they mounted their horses and rode away, and then he turned back and found himself shocked at the storm of emotion that raged through him as he took in Lotor’s face, his carefully blank eyes, the mess of spittle speckling his cheeks.

He walked over, pulling a handkerchief out his pocket. “I’m sorry,” he said as he reached out. Lotor flinched but Shiro just stepped closer, carefully wiping his face. Lotor closed his eyes and raised his hand to take the handkerchief for himself.

“We should return,” he said quietly once he’d finished and handed it back. “Now. Before they catch us here.”

The walk back to Lotor’s room was thankfully uneventful, and Shiro wondered about what it was he found himself lost in now. He was trapped in the midst of Zarkon’s court, trapped in a sham marriage to the Prince that had destroyed his people’s last hope of victory and freedom. And yet- somehow he wasn’t afraid.

For a fate that was supposed to be worse than death, this really wasn’t so bad.

 

 


	3. Five for silver

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning, this chapter includes homophobic and ableist slurs.
> 
> In other news... who's ready for... a BANQUET (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

 

* * *

 

The next few days passed in a blur. They didn’t leave the rooms much and they didn’t talk. It was an odd sort of peace, a lonely peace full of icy silences and unanswered questions. Mostly Lotor read by the window while Shiro tried to keep himself occupied with- anything. Three times a day servants brought in food that Lotor refused to eat and Lotor’s generals showed up some time later with replacements.

They seemed to be warming up to Shiro- or at least they no longer glared at him so openly. Shiro wondered what he was supposed to be doing, what either of them were supposed to be doing.

And then servants showed up, delivering ceremonial robes, and Lotor sighed heavily as he took in the sight.

“There is to be a banquet to celebrate the end of the war,” he explained quietly. “We’re to be in attendance.”

“Alright,” Shiro said, glad for anything to break the monotony.

It was their first public appearance together since the wedding and Shiro couldn’t help feeling nervous as they walked to the main banquet hall flanked by Lotor’s generals.

The room was lively and full of well-dressed guests, mostly men in ceremonial armor- soldiers and commanders. The few women in attendance, presumably the wives of various generals, seemed bored as they sipped on glasses of champagne while lingering on the edges of men’s conversations.

Zarkon and his witch were there as well, standing on a raised dais at the back of the hall as various Galra came to pay their respects. Neither of them made any move to approach or call them over, and Lotor carefully steered their small entourage away from them, keeping to the edges of the chamber.

Shiro eyed the laden banquet tables hungrily and Lotor must have noticed because he led them closer. He stood watching the other guests while Shiro filled a plate with cheese and olives and tiny pastries, dumplings shaped like little satchels and dusted with bright red and green spices. There weren’t any tables set up around the hall so he lifted the plate to his mouth. He was _starving_ after days of the meager fare he and Lotor had been subjected to and he didn’t care how ridiculous he must have looked to the Galra around him.

“Here,” Acxa muttered, stepping closer. She took his plate and held it for him so he could eat with his fingers.

“Thanks,” he grinned, popping a small golden dumpling into his mouth. The filling was juicy and savory, oddly sweet. The next thing he tried was even better- a piece of toasted flatbread smothered in soft creamy cheese and topped with chopped olives and some kind of meat, maybe ham. Everything was delicious and it wasn’t long before he was going back for seconds. “You’re not eating?” he asked Lotor.

“I’m not hungry,” Lotor muttered as he watched a group of soldiers whispering to each other and throwing pointed glances their way as they passed.

“Hmm,” Shiro said. He scowled at the soldiers from behind Lotor’s shoulder and one of them flinched, turning away quickly. So they still feared him, at least a little.

“Here, try this,” Zethrid said, her voice rumbling with approval as she presented him with a plate of cookies shaped like flowers. They were painstakingly decorated with lines of icing so thin that it looked like the finest lace.

“Thanks,” Shiro said, but even as he took a bite of one he found his own appetite waning.

He’d fully expected to be an object of ridicule but he hadn’t expected that Lotor would be too. He hadn't expected how _angry_ that would make him. Suddenly even the excellent food wasn’t enough to lighten his mood.

They made their rounds through the hall as Lotor spoke with various generals and commanders, accepting false-sounding congratulations on his recent nuptials. As the fifth person commented on Shiro’s size and Lotor’s stamina Shiro found himself finished with it all, with the tight set of Lotor’s shoulders, with his faintly trembling hands.

“It’s impressive you can walk straight,” General Throk said with a leer sent Lotor’s way.

“It’s impressive I can, you mean,” Shiro said. He could feel Lotor stiffening beside him but suddenly he didn’t care. “You know how it goes,” he added with a casual shrug, “the enthusiasm of a newly forged union. Frankly it’s a miracle I can walk at all.”

General Throk drew back in shock, glancing between Lotor’s blank expression and Shiro’s bland smile. He left without a further word and Shiro glared after him, impossibly satisfied.

“Why would you say such a disgusting thing,” Lotor hissed. “Now they’ll think- they’ll think-”

“What?” Shiro asked pointedly. “They’ll think you’re fucking me? So what? How is it any different than what they thought before- that I was fucking you?”

Lotor flushed and looked down. “It’s unseemly,” he whispered. “Why would you admit to- to such depravity? Especially when it isn’t true?”

Shiro snorted, looking away. “Your father intended to rape me on our wedding night, and that was all well and good. But the idea of being on the receiving end of a consensual encounter is somehow obscene?”

“Yes,” Lotor said.

“Your people are strange,” Shiro muttered.

“Are things really so different in Altea?”

“Yes,” Shiro said. “In Altea no one concerns themselves about what consenting adults do in the privacy of their own bedrooms. Now play along and put your hand on my lower back.”

“Why are you doing this?” Lotor asked quietly.

“Because what they say bothers you, meanwhile I couldn’t care less,” Shiro said. “I’m a glorified prisoner and you’re their prince. They shouldn’t treat you with such disrespect.”

Lotor looked away, biting his lip, and then he must have come to some decision because his stance _shifted_ and suddenly he was standing tall and practically radiating authority. “No,” he said firmly. “I’m done with this altogether. We’re leaving.”

Shiro grinned up at him. “Wait, I want to grab a few more of those little pastry things-”

“Zethrid,” Lotor said, striding confidently over to a banquet table. “Take this.” He picked up the entire platter and handed it to her.

“Hell yeah,” Ezor muttered, grabbing half a dozen unopened bottles of wine while Acxa and Narti took that as their cue to raid the table for themselves. They were gone before anyone had even noticed what was happening, much less tried to stop them, and Shiro couldn’t help laughing as he followed Lotor out into the gardens.

They walked down rocky paths lined with cacti and lush palms and Lotor took them towards a thorny hedge that turned out to be the outer wall of a maze.

“Here,” Lotor said, leading them to a clearing with a fountain in the center.

“Now this is more like a party,” Shiro said, grabbing a bottle of wine and shoving the cork inside to get it open before taking a deep swig. Acxa laughed, taking the bottle from his hand and taking a drink herself before passing it on. Shiro grabbed a few pastries off the platter before sitting on the ground with his back against the edge of the fountain.

He was surprised when Lotor sat beside him without a care for his white robes, holding his own bottle.

“Eat,” Shiro said, nudging him in the side with his elbow. “You’re practically skin and bones.”

“You know, you’re not so bad, Black Lion,” Ezor said.

“Shiro,” Shiro said. “You’re not so bad yourselves, I guess.” He laughed a little, looking up at the stars. They were so much brighter out here in the clear desert sky than what he was used to back home. It was so beautiful that it nearly took his breath away.

He thought of the first time he’d seen Lotor, galloping out of the dark forest like a nightmare. And now here he was- sitting beside him in the sand nibbling thoughtfully on a tiny pie and drinking wine straight out of the bottle.

“How did you do the thing with the flaming swords?” Shiro asked.

“It’s a type of oil,” Lotor said, “refined from animal fat and mixed with cuprous chloride-”

“Here we go,” Zethrid said, rolling her eyes. “Good job, now you’ve got him started and he’s going to lecture us all night.”

“Don’t pretend like it’s boring,” Lotor said. “The chemical properties of-”

“Blah blah blah,” Ezor interrupted. “It’s oil and it catches fire, the end. Eat a cookie.”

Narti and Acxa laughed at Lotor’s disgruntled expression and Shiro found himself smiling too. “I don’t think it’s boring,” he said as Lotor reached for a pastry.

Lotor paused, looking up at him in surprise. The corners of his mouth curled up a little and it was the closest Shiro had ever gotten to seeing him smile.

“We should go away for a few days,” Acxa said. “I’m suffocating here.”

“You know we’d leave if we could,” Lotor said carefully.

“I don’t mean for good,” Acxa said. “Just a few days, just to take a break. A hunting trip, maybe. Like we used to go on. We’ll bring the Black Lion so you won’t be fretting over him while we’re gone. It’ll be fun.”

“I think I could manage a hunting trip,” Lotor said slowly. “Just a few days. What do you think?”

Shiro paused in the middle of taking a drink as he realized Lotor was talking to _him_. “I’d love to get out of here, as long as you’re not worried about me escaping.”

“You escaping is the least of my worries at present,” Lotor said.

He froze, tilting his head to the side before jerking to his feet. His generals followed and Shiro did too, not sure what was happening- and then he heard quiet footsteps.

The six of them waited as a figure approached out of the darkness and Shiro scowled when he saw who it was.

“Here you are,” Sendak said with a smirk.

“Here I am,” Lotor replied. “Is there something I can help you with, General Sendak?”

Sendak swept his gaze over Lotor’s generals dismissively and paused briefly on Shiro before looking back at Lotor. “Rude of you to slip out so early. My men were really looking forward to getting to know your little bitches. And I was hoping to get a dance with you- it’s been so long.”

Shiro scowled harder, thrumming with anger, but something in Lotor’s posture seemed to loosen.

“My _bitches_ bite,” Lotor said, “so you’d do well to keep your men away from them. As for the rest- I’d love to dance, darling.”

Lotor moved faster than Shiro could have thought possible, lunging forward. Sendak was expecting it, raising his fists to strike. Lotor ducked under Sendak’s punch and sprung up to elbow him in the face.

“Fucking- _finally_ ,” Acxa said as Sendak stumbled back with a grunt.

“I know you didn’t come here to face me alone,” Lotor hissed. “Where are your dogs?”

Out of the corner of his eye Shiro saw Ezor move, throwing a dagger into the darkness. There was a surprised grunt and then half a dozen Galra were rushing out towards them.

“ _Now_ it’s a party,” Zethrid growled, raising her fists, and then there was chaos. Shiro turned to take it all in. There was too much going on to focus on it all but he caught flashes-

Narti kneed someone in the balls as Ezor weaved between two attackers. One of them grabbed her by the hair and she slashed him in the hand with a dagger. He screamed and fell back. Zethrid grabbed a Galra soldier and spun him around before tossing him at someone else. Acxa laughed as she shoved someone’s head into the fountain, under the water. Through it all Lotor was still fighting Sendak, elegantly weaving out of the way of all the larger man’s attacks, his hair gleaming silver in the moonlight.

Someone stumbled into Shiro’s back and he turned, punching him in the face before jumping into the brawl for real. He had no idea what the hell was going on but the two sides of the fight were clear enough and Shiro knew exactly which one he was on. It was terrifying and exhilarating and he got tripped up in his stupid robes more than once but the thrill of battle again, at last, made his heart sing.

The tide turned quickly, some of Sendak’s men turning to run, and then the others were unconscious and it was just Lotor and Sendak still locked together, grappling on the ground. As Shiro watched Lotor twisted, using his entire body to shove the larger man off him before straddling him and slamming the heel of his hand into his face. There was a loud crack and Lotor bared his teeth in some kind of feral version of a grin.

He looked wild in a way Shiro had never seen him before, not even during battle, and his heartbeat skipped a beat with fear and something else, something _hot_.

“Threaten them again, you stupid fuck,” Lotor snarled, wrapping his hands around Sendak’s throat and bearing down. “Do it and I’ll take your other eye. _Do it!”_

There was a shout in the distance and Acxa’s eyes widened.

“Lotor, the night watch is coming,” she said. “We have to go- leave him.”

“I should have put you down when you first turned on me,” Lotor hissed at Sendak, staring wide-eyed as his struggles gradually got weaker.

“Lotor!” Acxa said, louder.

Narti made a series of frantic hand signs, bringing her fingers up to her ear.

“Fuck, you’re right-” Acxa said. “Zethrid, get him-”

“I think my arm’s broken,” she said nervously. “I can’t-”

“Fuck! We have to-” her eyes widened as her gaze caught on Shiro. “You,” she said, pointing. “Help me get him- he’s going to fight back.”

Shiro nodded, stepping closer. He followed Acxa’s lead and grabbed Lotor by the upper arm as she did before they dragged him off of Sendak and away.

“Get off me!” Lotor yelled, fighting to break out of their hold.

“It’s over,” Acxa hissed. “It’s over- calm down.”

He kept fighting as they took him out of the hedge maze, and then Acxa jerked her head over at a small outcropping of stone and they dragged him behind it before forcing him to the ground.

 _“Let go-”_ Lotor gritted out as Narti stepped forward and took his face in her hands, staring at him. Slowly he calmed, and then he closed his eyes, breathing hard.

“Lotor?” Acxa asked quietly.

“I’m fine,” he bit out. “Let me go. Please.”

Shiro looked over at Acxa and she nodded at him before letting go. Shiro followed, sitting back as Lotor unsteadily got to his feet.

“What’s going to happen when the guards find Sendak and his men?” Ezor asked. “Do you think they’ll say it was us?”

“Do you really think Sendak or his lackeys will boast about being beaten by four women, a cripple, and a- a _fag?”_ Lotor spit out. “No. They’ll say it was assassins, or- or someone else. They’ll lock down the palace while they search. We need to get back before then.”

He turned on his heel and stormed away while the rest of them struggled to keep up with his long strides. Somewhere in the distance alarm bells started to ring and Shiro could hear shouting and pounding footsteps, slamming doors. But they were already turning into the hall that housed Lotor’s room, and before long they were safely inside with the door shut and locked behind them.

Zethrid winced as she sat at the dining table and Ezor hustled over, whispering quietly as she examined Zethrid’s hurt arm. Narti went to help while Acxa fetched a pitcher of water and Lotor walked to stand at the window, his shoulders stiff and high with tension as he looked out into the night.

Shiro found himself at a loss. The generals seemed to have things under control so he went over to stand next to Lotor and leaned against the wall as he looked at Lotor’s face. His lip was bleeding sluggishly and there was a dirty scrape high on his forehead. His hair was lank and dirty for once, loose strands that had escaped his braid hung down to frame his face.

“What was all that about?” Shiro asked. “Why does Sendak have it out for you?”

Lotor’s lips tightened into a thin line and he narrowed his eyes, glaring out at the yard below. “We have a history.”

Shiro raised his eyebrows, waiting patiently.

Lotor sighed, his hands tightening into fists over the windowsill. “I trusted him once, a long time ago. He used that trust to destroy my life, so I stabbed him in the eye. Apparently he took that a bit personally.”

Shiro snorted with surprised laughter and Lotor glanced up at him.

“That’s why you were exiled?” Shiro asked.

Lotor’s lips twisted into a grimace. “As it happens, stabbing someone who’s wronged you is not one of the more contemptible crimes among the Galra.”

Shiro had a feeling he wasn’t going to say anything else. His gaze drifted down to Lotor’s lips and before he quite knew what he was doing he reached out to wipe the blood off his chin with his thumb.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said quietly before taking Lotor’s hand and drawing him over to the table.

Lotor went along without protest and stayed still as Shiro dipped his handkerchief into the basin of water Axca had brought over before wiping the dirt off his face.

“I’m sorry,” Lotor said, his eyes dark as he watched Ezor splinting Zethrid’s arm.

 _“Sorry?”_ Acxa asked incredulously. “That was amazing. I’ve been waiting for you to hand his ass to him ever since we came back.”

Lotor ducked his head. “He’s had an army at his back. Up until now.”

Zethrid snorted. “Fuck him. Fuck him and all his _bitches._ He’s a coward, to come for us in the night like that.”

“Yes,” Lotor said quietly. “But I’ve been a fool, too. I’ve been a fool to forget how things work around here. We’ve been hiding like we were afraid, and that made Sendak bold. From now on- no one goes anywhere alone. And- from now on-” he winced, tightening his hands into fists. “We can’t hide any longer. We have to attend audiences, training sessions, the rest of it. We have to make our presence known.”

Narti made a few quick hand signs and Lotor shook his head.

“Then we’ll have to take it as it comes. I’m sorry. Maybe-” he looked up, his eyes wide and glittering oddly. “Maybe you should go,” he said. “Shiro and I must stay, but you-”

“Shut _up,”_ Acxa hissed. “Are you crazy? We’re not leaving you.”

“You should,” Lotor said. “It isn’t safe for you here-”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Ezor said as Zethrid and Narti glared at him. “Listen to Acxa for once.”

“Alright,” Lotor said after a long moment of silence. “We begin tomorrow, then. Everything will have to be different.”

 

 


	4. Six for gold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The main part of the story is finished, wooo!!! Just the epilogue left now, and I've updated the chapter count to account for it ;)

 

* * *

 

They spent the night in an unruly pile on Shiro and Lotor’s bed, and despite the discomfort of Ezor’s knee poking painfully into Shiro’s thigh, it was the most restful night of sleep he’d gotten in a while. He woke with his face pressed up against the back of Lotor’s neck and his mouth full of white hair, and when he tried to get up Acxa snored loudly and dropped an arm over his chest, keeping him trapped.

Shiro had to stifle a laugh as he carefully slipped away. Acxa frowned, shifting until she had her arm wrapped around Lotor instead. Lotor muttered something in his sleep and Shiro smiled, surprised at the wave of fondness that washed over him.

This was the first time since they’d met that Shiro was awake before he was, and if it wasn’t guaranteed to spark all kinds of vicious rumours he would have suggested the generals sleep with them every night. He got dressed and went out into the main room, wondering about what would happen now. Clearly he was out of his depth with whatever Galra politics and schemes were happening around him, but oddly enough he felt safe with Lotor and his generals at his back.

He was startled by a knock on the door, and for a moment he wasn’t sure if he should even answer. But then it came again and he found himself walking over.

There was a Galra servant holding a covered breakfast tray in the corridor and he flinched when he saw Shiro.

“Black Lion!” he exclaimed, his voice quivering.

“So you know who I am,” Shiro said. “Good. Show me what you’ve brought.”

The servant shifted from foot to foot, shriveling under Shiro’s gaze. He carefully shifted his grip on the tray before raising the top. Shiro scowled as he looked at the two plates before him. There was a dead cockroach in the center of one them and Shiro reached out to take the insect, holding it up before the servant’s face.

“Did you do this?” he asked coldly.

The servant shook his head and Shiro narrowed his eyes as he tried to figure out if he was lying.

“If you didn’t do it- who did?”

“One of the soldiers,” he whispered. “I don’t know his name.”

“And you let him.”

“I- I-” the servant was deathly pale as his eyes flitted between the cockroach and Shiro’s scowl. “It’s just a joke! What’s the harm? It wasn’t meant for you-”

“I know full well who it was meant for,” Shiro said, crushing the bug in his fist before reaching out to wipe his hand on the man’s shirt. “It won’t happen again. Tell the others- the next time I even _suspect_ the food has been tampered with- I’ll be coming for them personally. Do you understand me?”

The man nodded frantically.

“Good,” Shiro said. “Now- all these little _jokes_ of yours have left me very hungry. When you bring replacements- bring enough food for six.”

The man nodded before scurrying away.

Shiro watched him disappear behind a corner before returning to the room and walking over to the window, looking out into the yard below. It was buzzing with activity, large groups of guards marching to and fro- no doubt in response to last night’s so called attempted assassination.

The door to the bedroom opened and Shiro turned to see Lotor walking out. He looked oddly soft, rumpled from sleep even though he’d braided his hair neatly again.

“Good morning,” Shiro said.

“Good morning,” Lotor said hesitantly.

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” Lotor said. “Thank you.”

“Let me see,” Shiro said, stepping towards him. He took Lotor’s chin carefully and tilted his face towards the light streaming through the window. The scrape over his forehead didn’t look so bad, and the cut in his lip had scabbed over. When he looked up into Lotor’s eyes he couldn’t help freezing at the intense way the other man was watching him. And then Lotor flinched back and Shiro realized he’d run his thumb over his bottom lip.

“Sorry,” he said as Lotor turned away.

“It’s fine,” he said, but his voice sounded a little shaky. “It’s fine, it doesn’t hurt.”

There was a knock on the door and Lotor went to open it.

“What is this?” he asked as he took in the servant shaking under the weight of his giant covered tray.

“Your breakfast, sire,” the Galra said. He looked up at Shiro nervously and Shiro inclined his head, motioning him over to the table. The servant slipped past Lotor to set the food down. “I hope it’s to your satisfaction, sire. Black Lion.” He bowed respectfully and turned before practically running away.

Lotor raised the cover to reveal a handsome spread- sausage and sliced meats and hard boiled eggs, already peeled and cut into halves and topped with some kind of airy spread and sprinkled with red spices. There were thick slices of flatbread, toasted and crispy, along with cheeses hard and soft and a generous pat of butter. A bowl of black olives stood next to a few pots of jam and honey and a tray of sliced fruits. For once there were drinks, too- a pitcher of fragrant black tea as well as one of juice and one full of clear water with berries floating in it. For the first time since Shiro had gotten here, the food was unmarred by spit or rat droppings or insects or any other little _jokes_ and Lotor-

Smiled.

Shiro’s heart fluttered at the sight of it. “I’ll go wake the others,” he said, not sure why he suddenly felt so strange.

The generals were already slowly getting up but at the mention of breakfast they hastened. The five of them entered the room to see Lotor still staring at the food like he couldn’t quite believe his eyes.

“You didn’t have to wait,” Acxa said. “You must be starving.”

“Alright,” Lotor breathed out, reaching out to pour himself a cup of tea before grabbing a piece of sausage delicately with his bare fingers.

There were only two plates and by silent agreement Zethrid and Ezor ended up sharing one while Acxa and Narti ate from the other. Shiro didn’t mind getting his fingers a little dirty, oddly enthralled with watching Lotor eat. He ate slowly as if he were forcing himself to savor every bite, but his hands were shaking and it was clear all his attention was focused on the food in front of him. Gods- it was like he hadn’t had a decent meal in months. Maybe he hadn’t- if this sort of bullshit was going on back at the Galra camp during the war.

Shiro had seen how he and his generals lived on the journey back to Daibazaal- huddling together for warmth, scrounging for food. It was all so ridiculous. Did they really deserve such treatment from their own people just for-

He didn’t even know what it was all for. Because the generals were women? Because Lotor was-

“Why did they suddenly stop being assholes?” Zethrid mumbled around a mouthful of eggs.

Lotor looked up sharply at Shiro, his clear gaze so focused it was like a blade piercing through him. Acxa grinned when she saw it.

“I guess it pays off having a big scary husband,” she said with a laugh.

Narti made a few hand signs and Lotor flushed, looking down as the others laughed good-naturedly.

“What did she say?” Shiro asked, although from the hand motions he could see it was something obscene.

“She said there’s lots of other things big husbands are good for,” Acxa said, her eyes glittering with mirth. “Just- less politely.”

“Will you teach me?” Shiro asked Narti. “The- signs, your language.”

She seemed taken aback and then she smiled as her hands moved in a new set of signs.

“She’s asking why you want to know,” Lotor said. “Since it’s likely one of us will always be here to interpret.”

“Because- it’s fascinating,” Shiro said. “We had a few hand signs for stealth missions but nothing like this- nothing this elaborate. Why wouldn’t I want to know?”

Narti blushed as she looked down but Lotor and the others seemed pleased.

When Narti looked back up, Lotor interpreted for her.

“First lesson,” he said, watching her hands. “Thank you.”

She made the motion that had been the first sign he’d ever seen, when Lotor had done it back in his tent. Shiro copied it, raising his hand to his lips before drawing it forward.

She taught him a few more as they ate breakfast, and then Lotor was declaring that it was time to go.

They attended the morning’s public audiences, standing at the back of the hall as Zarkon took petitioners. Afterwards they strolled through the gardens and past the training fields while Shiro looked at the sparring pairs of soldiers with longing. He was itching to do something, to move, to use his body, to _fight_. He doubted such a thing would be allowed and forced himself to look away.

Afterwards they attended the midday meal in the main hall with the others and Shiro couldn’t help smirking when he saw Sendak on the other side of the room, his face bruised and swollen from his broken nose. There were afternoon audiences then, public declarations and troop inspections, and by the time dinner came around Shiro was missing the calm quiet hours he’d spent alone with Lotor in their rooms.

Things proceeded in much the same way for the next few weeks until Shiro got used to their new routine. They walked through the gardens and Lotor pointed out and explained all the plants Shiro wasn’t used to and didn’t know. Sometimes they went into the city, the market, and strolled past stalls while Lotor bought sweets and odd little knick knacks and Shiro tried to pretend everyone wasn’t _looking_ at them with a mixture of fear and disgust.

The audiences were the worst of it- tense hours spent standing with a wall at their backs while Zarkon passed down brutal laws and judgements, his witch always there at his right shoulder, whispering into his ear.

Through it all Zarkon seemed to get increasingly disgruntled, his scowls during meal times and public audiences growing more and more dark.

And then, at dinner one night, the witch leaned over to whisper something into Zarkon’s ear and they both glared directly at Shiro and his blood ran cold.

“Lotor,” Shiro said tightly. “Why-”

He didn’t have to explain further, Lotor glanced over at the head table and his face went pale.

“I don’t know,” he said, his lips barely moving.

“Maybe he thinks you’re having too much fun,” Ezor muttered absently.

“What are you talking about?” Lotor asked.

“Well- this whole… _thing_ ,” she said, motioning towards the two of them, “was supposed to be a cruel joke, a punishment. He probably thought you two were going to rip each other to shreds but you’re- strolling through the gardens and- and- you know. _You know._ ”

“No, I don’t,” Lotor said icily. “What-”

Ezor rolled her eyes before flicking her hair back over her shoulder. “The Black Lion is- threatening servants for you, and you’re- _Lotor._ You smiled two days ago, in the gardens. While you were showing him the nest of cactus wren chicks.”

“I did no such thing,” he said indignantly, but he seemed oddly flushed even as he said it.

“Oh Gods,” Shiro breathed out. “She’s right. He wanted me broken and humiliated and-”

“Well what am I supposed to do?” Lotor hissed. “Beat you? Ridicule you? Am I to discipline you at the dinner table?”

Acxa snorted at the suggestion like it was ridiculous. Except-

“Yeah,” Shiro said. “Yeah, you should. You should do it right now.”

Lotor’s eyes widened in shock. “What-”

“If he doesn’t think I’m miserable he’ll find a way to fix that,” Shiro said urgently, shuddering at the very thought. There were no limits to what Zarkon could do- torture him, execute him, or worse- give him back to his witch. “You play this game so much better than I do- surely you can see it.”

Lotor was frozen, and then his lips tightened into a thin line and his eyes shuttered, growing blank and cold in a way Shiro hadn’t seen for weeks. Shiro was expecting it and still it caught him off guard when Lotor snarled and backhanded him _hard_ across the face.

The slap was a thunder clap in his ears, everything else going silent for a terrifying moment even as his face went numb.

“Watch yourself, you miserable whelp!” Lotor cried out furiously, jerking to his feet and grabbing Shiro by the arm to yank him up out of his chair. “I’ll teach you a lesson you’ll never forget,” he hissed before dragging Shiro away.

Shiro followed numbly, struggling to keep up with Lotor’s long strides. He was still reeling from the shock but he managed to look back just as they left and saw the look of vicious glee over Zarkon’s face. Something eased in his heart and he knew- this was right, they’d done the right thing.

Even though the halls were empty Lotor didn’t let the act drop until they were back in their rooms. Shiro was impressed by his dedication. He was already feeling more normal, the pain fading into nothing more than a dull ache and a prickling heat over his cheek.

“Damn,” he muttered as Lotor slammed the door shut behind them and finally let Shiro go before walking over to stand at the window. “Maybe we should have waited until after dessert, I heard one of the servants mention there’d be lemon pies tonight. Maybe we could have some sent up here. What do you think?”

When Lotor didn’t answer Shiro looked over at him and frowned to see that his shoulders were shaking faintly.

“Lotor?” he asked, drawing closer. He peered at Lotor’s face to see his eyes were screwed shut and he was worrying at his bottom lip with his teeth. “Lotor?” Shiro whispered before carefully reaching out to put his hand on Lotor’s shoulder.

Lotor flinched and looked at him at last, his eyes glittering with unshed tears.

“Oh, hey-” Shiro said, reaching for him again to take his hand. “Hey, it’s alright. I’m alright. Thank you. That was-”

Lotor looked down, his chin trembling and his breath coming hard and fast.

“Hey,” Shiro whispered, pulling him closer so he could slide his hand up Lotor’s arm and to the back of his neck. “Hey, it’s ok. Come here.”

He took a step forward and didn’t dare push for more, and then Lotor let out a shuddering breath and let his head fall to rest against Shiro’s shoulder. He raised his hands to press his palms flat against Shiro’s chest, like he wasn’t quite sure if he wanted to push him away or pull him closer. He was trembling and Shiro couldn’t help whispering soothing nonsense to him as he stroked his back.

“Every time I think there are limits to what I’m willing to do-” Lotor said breathlessly, his voice shaking just as hard as the rest of him. “Every time I set a boundary- I have to break it. I have to- I have to hurt people, so he won’t hurt them worse. I don’t want to- I don’t- I’m so _tired.”_

“It’s alright,” Shiro whispered to him. “It’s going to be alright. It won’t last forever, nothing does. And in the end, it’ll be alright.”

The door opened and Shiro looked up to see the generals shuffling in uncertainly.

“Lotor?” Acxa asked.

Lotor stepped back, straightening before looking over at them. “I can’t- I can’t do this anymore. I need-“

“Yeah,” Acxa said. “I’ll take care of it. Do you want us to stay?”

“It’s fine,” Lotor said with a shake of his head. “I’ll be fine. Just- send the message. Tonight.”

Acxa nodded before turning and walking away, the others following.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to be alone,” Lotor said, taking another step back, towards the bedroom.

“Alright,” Shiro said quietly.

Lotor nodded tightly and Shiro watched him go.

 

 


	5. Seven for a secret, Never to be told

 

* * *

 

 

Shiro wasn’t sure what exactly Acxa had done and for some reason he was too afraid to ask. Nothing seemed to change in the following weeks, except Lotor became cold and distant. Shiro knew it was for his own good, for both of them, but he still missed how things used to be between them.

Lotor was oddly quiet even when they were alone and he slept less, ate less. Shiro couldn’t help worrying about him, but Lotor carefully evaded any attempts he made to help or even just talk.

At least that made it easier to act miserable in front of Zarkon, but that was a cold comfort.

Messages started trickling in about bandits raiding imperial caravans and tax collectors and finally, after nearly two weeks of almost-daily attacks, Zarkon slammed his fist against the arm of his throne in anger.

“Why have the men I sent not caught these bastards!” he roared as the messenger flinched back.

Shiro was startled when Lotor moved, striding forward before dropping to one knee in front of the throne and ducking his head.

“Sire- I beg you. Allow me the honor of taking care of these rats for you.”

Zarkon frowned down at him, drumming his fingers on the arm of the throne. “You?” he sneered. “You really think you can succeed where your betters have failed?”

“Sire- allow me to prove myself to you. I won’t let you down, I swear it.”

Zarkon was silent for a long time, and then he smirked. “Very well.”

“Thank you, sire,” Lotor said. “Allow me to take a company of soldiers and I’ll-“

“A company?” Zarkon interrupted with a laugh. “Why should you need any of my men, much less a company? Didn’t you claim that your- _women_ \- were a match for any man on the field? Are you going back on that claim? You need only say so and I’ll find more suitable positions for them.”

There were a few muffled chuckles from the assembled audience and Shiro couldn’t help scowling as Acxa crossed her arms over her chest beside him.

“No, sire,” Lotor said. “They will be sufficient. Thank you, sire.”

“Go,” Zarkon said, waving his hand. “Do not fail me again.”

“I won’t, sire,” Lotor said before standing and backing away, his head still bowed respectfully. He turned on his heel, his robes flaring around him, and snapped his fingers at Shiro and his generals, motioning towards the door.

They returned to Shiro and Lotor’s rooms and Shiro watched curiously as Lotor bent to slide a large chest out from under the bed. He threw it open to reveal nondescript leather armor and other gear.

“Yes!” Ezor cried out as she sprang forward to pull out some sort of jacket covered in an excessive amount of straps and buckles and clutched it to her chest with a grin. She spun around a few times before throwing off her clothes and Shiro turned around, blushing.

“Ok! I guess I’ll just- go. Out… there,” he muttered as he left the bedroom.

He had no idea what was going on as he paced the living room. That was a feeling he was used to by now. He didn’t have to wait long for Lotor and his generals to emerge and he couldn’t help staring. Gone were the flowing robes, the silver and white like he was the prince of snow and ice. Lotor was dressed in a simple leather jerkin that hugged his torso sinfully and accented his narrow waist and wide shoulders. He wore narrow black pants along with thigh-high boots that were just- ridiculous. He was armed with a sword on his belt along with at least two daggers Shiro could see, and his hair was up in a loose bun that made him seem oddly soft.

The generals were dressed similarly, though they’d each put their own spin on things. Zethrid was the only one wearing protective metal plates over her armor, Acxa had chainmail on under her black tunic. Narti wore a dark shawl draped artfully over her head and shoulders, and Ezor looked like she’d been poured into her leather suit.

“We don’t have gear in your size,” Lotor said. “We’ll have to find something for you later.”

“I’m- you’re taking me with you?” Shiro asked, relief filling him with warmth.

“He didn’t say not to bring you,” Lotor said, raising an eyebrow. And then he _grinned_ and Shiro couldn’t help shivering as he finally realized what was going on.

“You- _planned_ this, didn’t you,” Shiro whispered, and couldn’t look away as Lotor’s grin grew impossibly sly.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Lotor said. “We’re going out to hunt bandits, just as the Emperor commanded.”

“Right,” Shiro said as Acxa laughed and clapped him on the back as she walked past him.

“Let’s not waste daylight, Black Lion. There are so many bandits out there we’ll need every minute. There are so many it’ll take days.”

“Who knows?” Ezor said, grinning too. “It could take weeks.”

“Months,” Zethrid said with a laugh.

“Leave your robes,” Lotor said and Shiro pulled them off and threw them over the back of a chair before following the five of them out of the room. They stopped by the armory to get a jerkin and a sword for him, along with a smaller blade he could hide in his boot, and then they were in the stables.

“Isn’t that- one of Sendak’s horses?” Shiro asked as Lotor brought a magnificent black stallion out of a stall.

“Is it?” Lotor asked, his eyes glittering with joy and mischief so profound it took Shiro’s breath away. “I don’t think so,” Lotor said, tossing Shiro the reins. “I think it’s yours. A fitting mount for the infamous Black Lion, no?”

Shiro couldn’t help laughing as he saddled Sendak’s horse- his horse, now- and climbed on. Lotor glanced back at him with a grin and Shiro knew he’d never get tired of that look over his face, and then they were galloping out of the city.

They rode through the desert until nightfall and made camp while Acxa set up traps and Zethrid set out their bedrolls. Lotor took care of the horses while Ezor started a fire and Shiro felt caught up in the excitement of it all, the freedom of being away from Zarkon’s sight.

By the second night they reached a hidden oasis and Lotor had nearly completely dropped the tension he’d carried with each step and Shiro couldn’t help feeling giddy with it. They set up a pot over the fire and Lotor started a stew that smelled spicy and sweet.

“We’re going for a walk,” Ezor said with a wide grin as she took Zethrid’s hand.

“Don’t go far,” Lotor said. “Take these with you-” He tossed them a pair of strange objects like tubes and Zethrid caught them, rolling her eyes.

“Thanks, _mom,”_ she said with a laugh. Shiro could barely believe his ears when Lotor laughed back.

“Narti and I are going for a swim,” Acxa said. “Do you want to join us?”

Shiro blushed under her gaze. “I- we’re- _men._ You’d want-”

“Well, Lotor isn’t going to try anything,” Acxa said, setting her hands over her hips. “Will you, Black Lion?”

“No!” Shiro cried out and Lotor laughed again.

“Why don’t you two go ahead,” he said. “We’ll go after.”

Acxa shrugged. “Keep watch, then.”

“So- what about these bandits?” Shiro asked once they were gone. “Was it all a trick?”

“How could it be?” Lotor asked, smiling as he stirred the stew in the pot. “The Emperor received quite dire reports.”

“But- how do we-”

“They’ll find us soon enough,” Lotor said with a cryptic smile. “That reminds me-” He rooted around in his pack until he found a cylinder much like the one he’d given Ezor.

“This will be quite loud,” he warned before pointing it up at the sky and yanking on a short string hanging from the bottom.

Shiro flinched at the loud bang, staring in wonder as something like a fireball shot out of the end of the cylinder, red sparks hurtling into the sky that exploded into a sphere of tiny lights, fading as they fell slowly to the ground. For a long minute nothing happened, and then there was another ball of sparks, purple this time, exploding in the distance.

“Our bandits will meet us here tomorrow,” Lotor said.

“So this is what- a vacation?” Shiro asked.

“Of sorts,” Lotor said with a shrug. “Why? Are you missing the palace life already?”

“Gods no,” Shiro shuddered. He felt more free than he had in a long time, more happy than he had in a long time. Lotor was _smiling_ as he ate a small piece of hardtack, and the air was pleasantly warm, and the stars were painfully bright above them.

They sat in companionable silence until Acxa and Narti came back, dripping wet and wrapped in blankets.

“Would you care for a swim?” Lotor asked, and all Shiro could do was agree.

He followed Lotor into the night towards the edge of a large pool and didn’t hesitate to throw his clothes off. He couldn’t help watching out of the corner of his eye as Lotor got undressed until he was just wearing a long white tunic.

“Am I going to be the only one naked around here?” Shiro asked.

“No one’s forcing you to be naked,” Lotor said with a laugh, but Shiro shrugged his tunic off anyway and didn’t miss the way Lotor flushed as he turned away.

They waded into the clear fresh water and Shiro sighed at how good it was, how good all of it was.

They floated around for a while until Lotor hummed thoughtfully, turning towards him.

“What will you do?” he asked. “Once this is all over. Do you have… a sweetheart to return to?”

Shiro laughed. “No,” he said. “No, I- my _sweetheart_ -” he laughed again. “I had a lover, for a while. But Adam ended things between us long ago.”

“Adam?” Lotor asked, jerking up. “But that’s-”

“A man’s name?” Shiro asked, looking over at him.

“But you- you’re not a-”

“Deviant?” Shiro finished, raising his eyebrows. “Aren’t I? Did you not consider that maybe you don’t know me very well at all?”

“I- I-” Lotor sputtered, blushing furiously. “Surely you didn’t let him-”

“Fuck me?” Shiro asked, trying desperately to hold in his laughter. “Would it disgust you to learn that I did?”

Lotor seemed speechless and Shiro laughed at last.

“I did, a few times. I never- it was alright, but I never really liked it as much as he did. He seemed to like it a lot, though.”

Shiro watched curiously as Lotor blushed and looked away.

“It was good between us, for a while. After I was captured- I don’t know. He never really looked at me the same way, at my… arm. And then he said he couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t take losing me again. And then it was… over.”

“I had a lover too,” Lotor said, so quietly Shiro nearly didn’t hear. “I- we- we didn’t really- we didn’t do- much. We… kissed, and maybe- touched. A little.” He shrugged awkwardly.

“Was it… Sendak?” Shiro asked.

Lotor winced and frowned, and Shiro wished he hadn’t asked, hadn’t even gone there, but then Lotor was talking again-

“He promised to keep it a secret,” he whispered. “He promised… but he couldn’t. He boasted to his friends about tupping the prince, and they- and by the time it reached my father’s ears the stories were quite-” Lotor winced. “They didn’t… exactly paint me in a favorable light. Denying it would have only made me look more guilty, so I- I-”

 _“Lotor,”_ Shiro whispered, moving closer.

Lotor shook his head, looking away. “I- they- they tried to beat it out of me. It wasn’t that simple, of course.” He smiled a little, even though it looked more like a grimace. “I should have just… gone along with it. Pretended that… But I was young and foolish and full of fire. I thought I may as well commit the crime I was being punished for. So I… went to a brothel.”

Lotor looked down and turned away, but his voice still carried so clearly over the water, no matter how quietly he spoke.

“I didn’t have the courage to step inside, in the end. And I- that was where they found me. My father’s men. My father, he-”

Lotor let out a shuddering exhale, his shoulders rising with tension. “He had his soldiers surround the block,” he whispered. “And he- he- burned it all down. Everyone was still inside, and he- when they tried to run, his soldiers slaughtered them. He made me watch.”

“Oh _Lotor,”_ Shiro whispered, drawing closer.

“In the end I didn’t even… I didn’t even do what they all laugh at me about. But- but. My… _desire_ led to so much death and heartache,” Lotor said. “How could it be anything other than… perversion?”

“That wasn’t your fault,” Shiro said vehemently. He set his hand on Lotor’s shoulder and tried not to be put off when he flinched. “It wasn’t.” He moved so he could see Lotor’s face, peering past the curtain of silver hair to try and catch his gaze. “You can’t set his crimes on your own shoulders. He was _wrong_ \- do you understand? He was wrong.”

Lotor seemed unsure and lost and Shiro stepped closer.

“He was wrong,” he repeated. “Look at me.”

Lotor looked up slowly and Shiro smiled.

“Love can never be a crime. Stifling love and promoting hatred- that’s the crime. You weren’t the one that did anything wrong. And Gods! Your father is the biggest fool.”

Lotor frowned uncertainly and Shiro reached out to cradle Lotor’s face in his hand, swiping his thumb gently over his cheek.

“He wanted to punish me, and now I’m swimming under the stars with my husband- the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Lotor’s eyes widened in surprise and his gaze dropped to Shiro’s lips. Suddenly everything seemed to fall into place and Shiro leaned closer, hardly daring to even breathe.

“I thought you found me repulsive,” Lotor whispered.

“Never,” Shiro said firmly. “I wanted to, back then- but I never could.” He slipped his hand over to the back of Lotor’s neck, sinking his fingers into his damp silky hair. They were so close but still so far apart. Lotor’s skin was warm against Shiro’s hand, his eyes were an impossibly deep shade of blue, unmistakable even in the moonlight. Shiro wanted to taste him, see for himself if his lips were really as soft as they looked. But he was so afraid of pushing for more and somehow ruining this moment.

Slowly Lotor closed the distance between them, raising his hands to press his palms to Shiro’s naked chest. His eyes were wide and uncertain, like he was waiting for Shiro to turn him away.

 _“Lotor,”_ Shiro whispered, and finally Lotor moved to press their lips together. Shiro inhaled sharply, not quite able to believe this was actually happening, but one of Lotor’s hands was sliding into his hair and Shiro wrapped his arm around Lotor’s waist to pull him flush against his body. Lotor gasped and Shiro took the opportunity to tilt his head and deepen the kiss. Lotor shivered and made a sound like a bit-off moan, something almost like pain if it weren’t so warm and full of longing.

Shiro lost track of time, his mind going hazy with how amazing Lotor felt against him, until the sharp sound of laughter carried over to them and Lotor jerked back, breathing hard. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes dark with desire, and Shiro wanted nothing more than to lay him out on the bank of the pool and have his wicked way with him. He let himself imagine what that would be like, what _Lotor_ would be like as Shiro took him- would he be loud? Or shy? Would he clutch at Shiro’s shoulders hard enough to leave bruises he could carry for days after?

Acxa was yelling something about dinner and Lotor bit his lip before turning away.

“We should...”

“Should we?” Shiro asked regretfully, following as he stared at the way the wet tunic clung to Lotor’s skin as he walked towards the shore, nearly see-through in spots. He wrung out his hair before looking up and his eyes widened as he saw Shiro walking towards him.

“I- you-” he ran his gaze down Shiro’s naked body before turning hurriedly. “I’ll just- see you back at the fire.”

Shiro grinned after him before bending to pick up the drying sheet. After half heartedly drying himself off he wrapped it around his waist and grabbed his clothes, making his way back.

Acxa was laughing as she spooned out stew and Ezor was sitting in Zethrid’s lap with an arm around her neck. Lotor was lounging next to them, dressed in a fresh tunic and trousers but still barefoot as Narti braided his damp hair.

Acxa was in the middle of telling some story about a chicken thief but stopped abruptly when Shiro walked up. “Well,” she said, eyes wide as she stared at his chest. “Well. You might be missing an arm but I wouldn’t kick you out of bed.”

“Acxa!” Shiro said with mock indignity as he sat down. “I’ll have you know- I’m a married man.”

Zethrid laughed and even Lotor chuckled a little.

Dinner was simple and companionable, and then Narti was pulling a small box out of her pack and handing it to Lotor with a few hand signs that Shiro didn’t recognize.

“Oh,” Lotor said, his eyes lighting up. He opened the box to reveal some sort of foodstuffs- Shiro wasn’t sure what they were but Lotor grabbed one and popped it into his mouth with a grin.

“It’s his favorite,” Acxa muttered, leaning closer. “Dried dates stuffed with goat cheese and drizzled with honey. If there’s a way to his heart- it’s that abomination.”

“Try one,” Lotor said with a grin as he offered up the box. Shiro reached out to grab one of the little morsels and took a small bite. The mix of sweetness and savory creaminess was amazing and Shiro grinned back.

They passed the box around, Lotor easily eating most of them, and afterwards they settled down to sleep with Zethrid and Narti keeping watch.

In the morning Acxa and Ezor went off hunting while they rest of them did little but swim and lounge around, and then they roasted quail for the midday meal and Narti taught Shiro a Galra card game that seemed needlessly complicated.

It was oddly easy and fun, and it was a revelation to see how relaxed and happy Lotor was in the midst of it all. Once the sun set, Lotor set off another signal flare and Shiro couldn’t help feeling anxious as he saw the answering ball of sparks in the distance, so much closer now than it had been the previous night.

It wasn’t until a few hours past dinnertime that the bandits reached their camp, three masked riders approaching while Lotor stood waiting for them patiently. None of the generals seemed nervous but Shiro’s palm was sweating as he watched the strangers come closer.

They had two extra horses with them and for some reason that struck Shiro as odd. It wasn’t exactly unusual to travel with more mounts than men, to carry supplies or even just to give the other horses a rest. But five horses for three men seemed excessive.

The leader stepped forward and dropped to one knee before Lotor, ducking his head and bringing his fist up to his chest. “Founder,” he said in a low rumbling tone, and Shiro would know that voice anywhere.

“Rise,” Lotor said, “you know there’s no need for such formalities between us.”

 _“Kolivan?”_ Shiro exclaimed.

Kolivan stood and took off his mask, looking over at him with an unreadable gaze. “Black Lion,” he said with a polite nod.

Shiro was speechless. The Blade of Marmora had been invaluable to the Altean army during the war- their intelligence and sabotage missions had saved many lives and prevented outright disaster at least half a dozen times. But they’d been significantly less effective once Lotor had entered the picture, and- had he _turned_ them? But- Kolivan had called him _founder_ just now, and-

“Hell,” Shiro breathed out. “They were yours all along.”

“For a while they were yours,” Lotor said with an easy shrug. “But obviously when you sent them to kill me they chose to act against your orders.”

Shiro laughed incredulously. “So that means- Ulaz, Regris, Antok- they’re all alive?”

One of the men with Kolivan waved and took off his mask, and it was Ulaz. The other waved too, and even though he didn’t uncover his face Shiro suddenly recognized his distinctive build- Antok.

“That’s- I’m glad to see-” Shiro’s brain caught up with him and his mouth fell open in shock. “So you- you had intelligence on our camp all along. You knew- where we were, how many men we had, our provisions… you could have- you could have-”

“Destroyed you at any point?” Lotor asked with a dangerous grin. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. Who’s to say now that it’s all over?”

“If we’re finished with pleasantries, I’d like to get down to business,” Kolivan said. He pulled a roll of parchment out of his pack and sat by the fire before unrolling it, a large map of the area. Lotor sat beside him as Antok and Ulaz took care of the horses. Shiro couldn’t help drifting over to them. He offered his hand to Ulaz and when the man took it Shiro pulled him into an embrace, patting him firmly on the back.

“You’re not… angry?” Ulaz asked. “We betrayed you.”

“I’m just glad you’re alive,” Shiro said. “All of you.”

Antok nodded tersely.

“I wish we could have found a way to work together,” Shiro said. “Now that I’ve gotten to know him a little, I think we could have found some way, some common ground.”

Antok shook his head. “There was little he could do with Sendak watching over his shoulder. We couldn’t even meet with him but for a few stolen moments.”

“We did the best we could,” Ulaz said, “and this is the best outcome we could have hoped for. It’s a miracle that Altea exists at all, that you’re not being tortured in some dungeon as we speak. Maybe one day, after Zarkon’s death… Altea can be free again. But not while that tyrant sits on the throne.”

“Maybe we could find a way-” Shiro started.

“No,” Antok cut him off, shaking his head again. “Your war is over. After tonight neither Zarkon nor Prince Lotor will be your concern any longer.”

Shiro’s blood ran cold. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“He hasn’t told you?” Ulaz asked.

“Told me what?” Shiro turned to see that Lotor and Kolivan were finished speaking and Lotor was looking at Shiro oddly. “Lotor?”

“The Blades are here for you,” Lotor said quietly. “They’re here to take you home.”

Shiro didn’t know how he felt hearing that. He was nearly swallowed by a wave of homesickness that made his teeth ache with how visceral it was. He’d come to terms with being in Daibazaal for the rest of his life, in enemy territory for the rest of his life, and now that there was the possibility of going home he felt dizzy with it. But-

Lotor was looking at him, the elegant planes of his face lit up by firelight, his silver hair gleaming under the stars. They’d kissed earlier and Shiro wanted more of it, of him, of everything. He wanted to strip away all the brittle layers and find out who he really was underneath it all. Shiro had a feeling it was someone beautiful.

He caught a sharp motion out of the corner of his eye- Acxa frowning as she crossed her arms over her chest, and suddenly another thought struck him.

“What will happen if I go?” Shiro asked.

“What do you mean? You’ll be free.”

“No- what will happen to you?”

“Nothing that wouldn’t have happened otherwise,” Lotor said.

“That’s not an answer,” Shiro pushed. “What will happen to you when you return without me? What will he do?”

Lotor pressed his lips into a thin line, refusing to answer.

“You know what he’ll do!” Acxa exploded. “Why hide it? Tell the Black Lion what he wants to know!”

“It’s no concern of his!” Lotor hissed back at her.

“I’m not leaving,” Shiro said. Lotor turned on him in shock and Shiro scowled back at him. “I’m not leaving. And you can’t make me unless you knock me out and sling me over a horse.”

“Don’t think I wouldn’t,” Lotor answered, narrowing his eyes.

“You could try,” Shiro said. “But I think for once I’ve got you outnumbered.”

“What are you talking about?”

Acxa stepped up to stand at Shiro’s back, followed closely by the other generals.

“If he won’t go, we won’t force him,” Kolivan said with a shrug.

“So I guess that’s settled,” Shiro said. Lotor seemed dazed as Shiro walked over and patted him on the back. “But it was a thoughtful gesture. Now, maybe I can send a letter back, for Keith and the Princess, maybe a few others?”

“I have some parchment,” Ulaz said, digging around in his pack.

Narti signed something and Shiro recognized the sign for _ink,_ but she brought over a quill as well.

“Thanks,” he said and signed with a smile and settled down by the fire to write his letters while Lotor watched him wordlessly.

 

 


	6. Eight for a wish

 

* * *

 

 

“Are we going back to Daibazaal?” Shiro asked in the morning when the generals and Blades started breaking down the camp.

“No,” Lotor said, saddling his horse. “Not for a while yet.”

“How long?” Kolivan asked.

“Give it two months,” Lotor said after a moment’s thought. “Taper off your raiding in that time and send me a message once you’ve stopped for good. We’ll return two weeks after that.”

“Very good,” Kolivan nodded.

Shiro grinned- two and a half months away from Zarkon’s court, from Sendak, from all the belligerent soldiers and servants, from attending tense audiences and meals. It seemed like ages, and yet no time at all.

“Will I be able to get a message back?” he asked. “If Keith or any of them want to write me- will you be able to get their letters to me?”

Kolivan glanced over at Lotor, who nodded.

“We’ll try,” Kolivan said. He turned back to Lotor and pulled him away for a private conversation while Shiro said his goodbyes to Ulaz and Antok, and then the two groups parted ways.

“I can’t say I particularly appreciate the insubordination,” Lotor said quietly once they’d stopped to water the horses and eat their midday meal. “But… thank you.”

Shiro smiled up at him. “If you want a divorce, I’m pretty sure you have to submit your request in writing.”

Lotor laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Who knows?” he asked. “They married us through some ancient rites that have all but been forgotten. They had to go centuries back to find a ceremony that allowed a same-sex union. I barely even remember the vows we made, do you?”

“Gods no,” Shiro said. “I wasn’t paying that much attention at the time.”

“Are you serious?” Acxa asked incredulously.

“Do you remember?” Shiro asked her.

Acxa shrugged. “Something about swords and death and honor, sharing your wealth, being champions.” She waved her hand vaguely as Narti grinned and signed something, too fast for Shiro to make out.

“Oh! Narti remembers!” Ezor cried out. “Alright- alright- I’ll be the Black Lion, Zethrid- you be Lotor.” She grabbed Zethrid’s hand to drag her over to stand before Narti like they were reenacting the ceremony.

“I don’t think so,” Lotor interrupted. “There’s been enough fooling around already, we should get going.”

“Aww,” Ezor pouted, letting go of Zethrid’s hand. “You’re no fun at all.”

They mounted up and rode until nightfall, when they reached another oasis and made camp. In the morning they rose to do it all again, traveling for another few days as the terrain grew rocky and increasingly treacherous as they approached the mountains.

Lotor led them through narrow cliff-side trails and hidden caves, and soon Shiro found himself completely lost even though Lotor still seemed to know exactly where he was going. On the evening of the fourth day he led them out to an outcropping of rock overlooking a hidden valley.

Shiro’s eyes widened as he took it all in. Most of the valley was farmland and pasture, a neat patchwork with well-tended roads leading through it all. On the far edge was a small idyllic town nestled up against the foot of an imposing castle that seemed to be built right into the sheer cliff behind it.

“What is this place?” Shiro asked.

“Home sweet home,” Acxa said with a grin as Ezor whooped happily.

“We must be just about on the border of Altea,” Shiro said as they started down the path.

“Inside it, technically,” Lotor said.

“I’ve never heard of this town…”

“Of course not,” Lotor said. “I found this place after I was exiled, though back then it was just an abandoned castle and salted fields. There must have been some battle here, long ago. I developed a way to enrich the soil and once the farmland was viable I started to bring people here- refugees mostly, but also political prisoners seeking to escape Zarkon’s grasp, and others.”

Shiro looked down into the valley. “You’d bring me here?” he asked, surprised that Lotor would share such a secret with him, that he’d share his home.

Lotor shrugged as he spurred his horse onwards. “You refused to be left behind, so what was I to do? Besides, I doubt you’d be able to find this place again without me.”

Ezor laughed. “I’ve been here a dozen times and I still can’t remember all the twists and turns of the damn path. If I tried to come here alone I’d probably get lost in one of the caves.”

“I could do it,” Acxa said.

“Pah,” Zethrid said, rolling her eyes. “You couldn’t.”

“Try me,” Acxa dared.

Shiro tuned them out as they descended into the valley, taking everything in. The climate did seem closer to Altea than Daibazaal, though there were plenty of more typically Galra crops in the fields- olives and fig trees, grapes and coffee. The farmers they passed waved at them in greeting and Shiro couldn’t help noticing that more than a few of them seemed to bear the marks of war and hardship- scars and missing limbs.

Lotor gasped and yanked on his reins, making his horse rear up with a whinny. Shiro flinched and turned to see what had happened, just in time to see Lotor bend and scoop a young boy up off the ground and set him down in the saddle in front of him.

“What did I tell you about running up like that?” Lotor scolded as the boy turned to wrap his arms around him.

“Not to?” the boy muttered, his words muffled against Lotor’s chest.

“You gave me and my horse quite the fright,” Lotor said, stroking the boy’s hair gently. “Where’s your sister?”

The boy shrugged before peering over at Shiro. “Hi,” he said.

“Hello,” Shiro said.

“My name’s Bandor,” the boy said with a frown. “And ‘Tor likes me best.”

“Pretty sure he likes me best, kid,” Acxa said dryly.

Narti shook her head and pointed to herself.

“Now now,” Lotor said with a small smile. “Everyone knows I like Sincline best,” he said before patting his horse.

“Hey,” the boy cried out with a pout, holding on to Lotor tighter.

“Prince Lotor!” a young woman called out as she ran up to them, her long blond hair swaying with every step. “I’m so sorry about this- when he saw you coming he just ran off!” She turned her gaze to the boy and set her hands on her hips. “You come down from there right now!”

“No!” Bandor yelled, sticking out his tongue.

“It’s alright, Romelle,” Lotor said with an easy smile. “We’re just going up to the castle to get settled, I’ll keep an eye on him until dinner time.”

“But the castle isn’t prepared!” Romelle said, wringing her hands. “You should have sent ahead a message, we need to light the fires and change the sheets-”

“I’m perfectly capable of lighting my own fires and changing my own sheets,” Lotor said. “But could you please have someone ready the spare room?”

“Of course, sire,” she said. “And you!” she hissed, pointing at Bandor. “Be good! Don’t cause any more trouble!”

“I’m always good!” Bandor said.

Romelle rushed away and Shiro couldn’t help grinning as Bandor babbled about nothing and everything- what’s been going on in town while Lotor was gone, how his studies were progressing, how Romelle had promised him a jelly tart if he finished all his chores.

Lotor dealt with it with the patience of a saint, asking the occasional question when Bandor let him get a word in. They made it to the stables at the foot of the castle and Shiro dismounted, giving the reins over to a waiting stablehand.

“Can I brush Sincline?” Bandor asked.

“If you promise to be gentle,” Lotor said.

“This is going to be awhile,” Acxa said. “Come on, Black Lion- I’ll give you the grand tour.”

Shiro followed her, awed as he took it all in. For its size the castle was warm, filled with light from oil lamps set out on nearly every surface and on ledges in the walls. They burned with a pleasantly fresh smell like lemon and pine and left no smoke or soot stains on the walls. The stone floors were covered with mats woven from reeds and there were heavy tapestries hanging on the walls- ancient and fading, though lovingly repaired.

“That’s the dining hall,” Acxa pointed to a set of doors standing open. Shiro could see servants scurrying around inside, setting up tables and chairs and lighting candles. “The kitchens and storage rooms are all downstairs, though I doubt you’ll need to know about all that.”

She showed him an expansive library and a winding stair leading to a tower study. “Don’t go up there,” she said as she stared upwards. “That’s his workshop, he gets very cross when people mess around up there. Also, you’re likely to blow yourself sky high.”

“Workshop?” Shiro asked, peering up curiously. He saw nothing but winding stairs leading up into darkness.

“Yeah, where he comes up with his little tricks. You know, like-”

“The blue fire,” Shiro said. “And the signal flares. He invented those?”

Acxa shrugged. “Sure. Other things, too. Nearly killed all of us three winters ago when he accidentally created some sort of poison gas.”

“Alright,” Shiro said, turning away. “Don’t go up there, got it.”

The tour ended in Lotor’s bedchamber, a spacious room with a lavish four poster bed standing against the wall between two windows. Bookshelves full of beautifully bound books and strange trinkets lined the walls and a huge table stood in the middle of the room, bearing a series of maps with mysterious tokens laid out over them- stones and carefully carved game pieces, a handful of acorns and buttons and oddly enough, a pincushion shaped like a tiny stuffed hedgehog.

Shiro stared at the maps, if only so he wouldn’t have to look at the bed, feeling oddly hot under the collar. It was ridiculous, they’d been sharing a bed this whole time, hadn’t they? It felt different now that they’d kissed, now that they weren’t in Zarkon’s court under his scrutiny.

“Master Shiro,” someone said and Shiro looked up to see Romelle bustling in. “We’ve just about gotten your room ready.”

“My room?” Shiro asked.

“This way,” she said, taking him by the arm and leading him over to a door past the bed. She opened it to reveal a second bedchamber and a few maids dusting and setting a fire, changing the sheets.

“Oh,” Shiro said, his heart sinking with disappointment. “I see. Thank you.”

Before he knew it, it was dinner time and he was being shown back into the main dining hall to see a veritable feast laid out over the tables. There were roasted peppers and mushrooms and bowls of spicy olives and cubed cheese and at least half a dozen dips and spreads. The main meal was a rich lamb stew and fried dumplings stuffed with ground meat and vegetables, along with three different salads. Shiro ate his fill, taken up by the festive atmosphere of it all.

Oddly enough Lotor was nowhere to be seen, but Shiro was seated with his generals and he laughed as they told raunchy stories about their time here, what hijinks and shenanigans they’d all gotten up to in the past few years.

In the evening Shiro returned to the bedchamber- still empty, and tried not to feel painfully lonely as he made himself comfortable in his bed, alone.

 

* * *

 

Over the next few days Lotor made himself scarce. Shiro explored the grounds, the town, spoke to the servants and the farmers and sparred with the soldiers. Through it all he just found himself- confused.

They’d kissed, back at the oasis, and Shiro wanted more. He had a feeling Lotor did too. Except- why was Lotor avoiding him? Had he only kissed him because he thought Shiro was leaving, while he thought he’d have no other chance? Or maybe he really was as busy as he made himself seem.

Sometimes Shiro caught glimpses of him across the training yard, speaking with young Blade of Marmora agents in uniform. Sometimes he saw Lotor playing with the servants’ children in the gardens, laughing as he gave them piggy-back rides and fought them with wooden swords. Sometimes he walked past the library to see Lotor bent over thick books, or having intent conversations with unknown warriors and servants in the halls.

At midnight on the third day Shiro finally pushed himself out of bed with a sigh before getting dressed.

“Lotor?” he asked as he walked into the main room, but of course it was empty. He spared a brief glance at the maps laid out over the table and the markers arranged over them all- shifted now, in some code that Shiro wasn’t privy to- and then went out into the hall.

His feet carried him to the winding staircase that led to Lotor’s workshop and he found himself oddly uncertain as he stared upwards. He took a step, and then another, and before he knew it he was at the door and staring at the light bleeding out past the edges.

He knocked quietly, leaning closer.

“Enter,” came the imperious command, and Shiro slowly opened the door.

His eyes widened as he took it all in, the work benches covered in delicate equipment, the shelves on the walls bearing meticulously labeled stoppered jars of chemicals. Lotor was sprawled over a chaise by a round window, looking through some parchments. His hair was escaping its neat braid, his eyes seemed heavy.

“Shiro?” he asked, sitting up with a jerk.

“Yes,” Shiro said, stepping inside.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, not as such,” Shiro said carefully, walking past a leafy plant hanging down over the door. He pushed the leaves out of the way before walking closer. “Just… wanted to check in on you. Seems to me you haven’t slept in a while.”

“I sleep,” Lotor said.

“Do you?” Shiro asked, smiling. “Because we share a set of rooms, and you never seem to be there. I’m not your nanny, but I am your… husband, of sorts. Is everything alright?”

“Fine,” Lotor said, looking away. “But I… have trouble sleeping at times. My work- it keeps me up.”

“I see,” Shiro said. “Restless energy.”

Lotor shrugged, refusing to meet his eyes.

“I can help with that,” Shiro said, and didn’t think he imagined Lotor’s blush. “I never did face you on the battlefield- how about a spar? You’ll sleep just fine after, I think.”

“That hardly seems fair,” Lotor said.

“Why? Because you have two arms and I have just the one? I’ve never let that stop me before.”

“I should really-”

“Stay here reading alone until the sun comes up?” Shiro teased. “Come now- spar with me. Maybe it will even be fun.”

Lotor stood almost despite himself and didn’t argue as he followed Shiro down to the training yard. It was deserted at this time of night and Shiro couldn’t help smiling as he took in the pleasantly cool breeze, the bright stars shining down on them.

“Just an informal match,” Shiro said, turning to face Lotor. “No weapons, nothing too heavy. Just a bit of fun.”

Lotor shrugged as he raised his hands, dropping into a loose stance.

Not counting the brawl in the hedge maze, Shiro had only ever seen him fighting from across a battlefield, and only with a sword. This felt oddly personal and it was exhilarating. He felt unusually impatient and he struck first, lunging towards Lotor.

Lotor twisted away easily and then things got heated and blurry. Shiro managed to score a few hits even as Lotor landed some of his own. The pain of the blows seemed far away, everything seemed far away, and then Lotor was bearing him down to the ground and Shiro found himself lying in the sand, staring up at Lotor above him.

Oddly enough, he didn’t feel defeated. A lock of hair escaped Lotor’s braid to brush against Shiro’s face and Shiro couldn’t help smiling as he looked at Lotor braced above him. He couldn’t quite decipher the expression over Lotor’s face- his eyes seemed a little wider than usual, his cheeks were perhaps a little flushed and his lips parted as he panted quietly.

On a hunch Shiro shifted. One of his thighs was trapped between Lotor’s legs and he slid it up, pressing it against Lotor’s groin. Lotor was _hard_ and he closed his eyes for a moment, shivering. And then he bit his lip and moved as though he was about to stand, _leave,_ and Shiro raised his arm to wrap around Lotor’s waist, keeping him pressed down. He rocked up gently, just once, just enough so that neither of them could pretend this wasn’t happening.

“Shiro-” Lotor bit out, nervous and trembling.

“You’re as skittish as a newborn colt,” Shiro murmured. “What are you so afraid of?”

“I- I’m not afraid,” Lotor said, jerking back but too weakly to break out of Shiro’s hold.

“We kissed earlier,” Shiro said mercilessly, “at the oasis. You know I want you, and I know you want me too. What is it? Are you afraid someone will find out? We’re married- they already think they know how things stand between us.”

“Shiro-” Lotor said, closing his eyes.

Shiro planted his feet on the ground and twisted, rolling them over so Lotor was trapped beneath him. He braced himself on the sand with his arm as he pushed his hips down, keeping Lotor pinned. He could feel Lotor’s arousal and knew that his answering erection was just as plain.

“Yes,” Shiro whispered. “Tell me.” He couldn’t help the small rocking motion of his hips, watching intently as Lotor sighed and dropped his head to the ground, exposing the long line of his throat. Shiro leaned forward to press a kiss to the hinge of his jaw before moving downwards as Lotor gasped.

“I- I’ve never-” Lotor whispered brokenly, “not really, I-”

“That’s all it is?” Shiro asked incredulously as he drew back. “You’re inexperienced, and so-”

“I don’t want to… do this wrong,” Lotor said, refusing to meet his gaze.

Shiro laughed. “Wrong? There is no right or wrong, there’s just the two of us, just what we want. Be honest with me, as I’ll be with you, and there will only be pleasure. There’s nothing to fear in that.”

“Shiro,” Lotor whispered and Shiro bent to take his lips, moving against him more insistently. _Gods-_ he felt amazing. Lotor wrapped a leg around his hips, drawing him closer as they moved together, and for a second it was utter bliss, and then-

“Wait,” Lotor said, and Shiro drew back with a worried frown. “Not… not here,” Lotor said, still flushed bright enough that Shiro could see it even in the moonlight. “Let’s-”

“Yeah,” Shiro said with a grin before standing and pulling Lotor up to his feet. “We’ve got that big fancy bed of yours, let’s put it to good use.”

Lotor faltered at that, so Shiro tightened his hold over Lotor’s hand and pulled him onwards. They didn’t pass anyone in the halls and it was a blessing, Shiro had a feeling that at any moment Lotor’s resolve might break, leaving only fear behind. Finally they reached the bedroom and Shiro pulled Lotor inside, shutting the door before pressing him back against it and taking his mouth in a kiss.

Lotor gasped, frozen for a moment before he raised his trembling hands to fist in the front of Shiro’s shirt, kissing back uncertainly. Forcing himself to slow down, to be careful, Shiro cradled the side of Lotor’s face in his hand. He angled his head to the side, taking control of the kiss and gently nudging Lotor’s lips apart, pushing his tongue inside. Lotor moaned at that, melting into his touch at last, and Shiro smiled against him.

“Come here,” he whispered, pulling back to take his hand again, leading him over to the bed.

The room was dark, lit only by the moonlight pouring through the gauzy curtains. Shiro didn’t dare stop to light a candle, didn’t dare stop for anything. There’d be time later, after. There’d be time to look his fill and take things slow, but right now he couldn’t wait.

He pushed Lotor down to sit on the bed before kneeling before him and pulling off his boots, and then moving on to the fastenings of his trousers. Lotor gasped and brought his hands up to cover Shiro’s.

“Alright?” Shiro asked, pausing and looking up into his face. “Do you want to stop?”

Lotor bit his lip, and then he let out a shuddering exhale and shook his head. Shiro cupped him through his pants, squeezing lightly as he watched Lotor panting above him. He waited until Lotor moved his hands away, fisting them in the sheets, before opening the fastenings at last.

“Spread your legs for me,” Shiro murmured and Lotor did as he asked without protest, moaning as Shiro pulled his cock out and gave it a few experimental strokes. “Fuck,” Shiro whispered, watching the bead of precum glistening at the tip before swiping his thumb over it and rubbing the head, the sensitive spot just underneath. Lotor moaned and shifted closer, his thighs quivering and his chest heaving.

“You smell so good,” Shiro muttered and Lotor shifted uncomfortably, like maybe he was trying to get away.

“Shiro,” he said, his voice coming out strangled, indignant.

“Hush,” Shiro said with a grin. “Let me have my fun.” He didn’t give Lotor a chance to answer before moving to take Lotor’s cock into his mouth.

“Shiro!” Lotor cried out, his hands coming up to clutch at Shiro’s shoulders. “Shiro- that’s- that’s filthy!”

Shiro pulled off to look up into Lotor’s wide eyes. “I like it,” he said. “I think you like it too.”

“It’s- it’s- wrong. You shouldn’t… put your mouth- _there_.”

Shiro laughed. “I have big plans for where I’m going to put my mouth, _there_ is the least of them. Tell me how it feels. Do you like it?”

“I- it doesn’t matter if I _like_ it, _”_ Lotor managed. “It’s just- it’s-”

“Hush, then,” Shiro said and bent back to his task, going slower now so he could savor it, pressing his tongue to the bottom of Lotor’s cock.

Lotor whimpered, bending over him and holding on to his shoulders like that was the only thing keeping him from collapsing. Shiro couldn’t help moaning when Lotor spread his legs a little wider for him, reaching down to stroke the base of Lotor’s cock with his hand, swiping his thumb over his balls teasingly. When he reached lower, behind, Lotor yelped in surprise but his cock twitched in Shiro’s mouth, so he did it again, and then again, bringing him steadily closer to his release.

His own cock was aching, trapped in his pants, but this was too good to stop. The sounds Lotor was making were beautiful and full of pleasure. Shiro flushed at the thought that it was because of him, what he was doing, what Lotor was letting him do. He was the first to taste him like this, do this for him, and he was damn well going to make it good.

“Shiro,” Lotor moaned urgently. “Shiro, I’m-”

Shiro moaned and sped up, taking him in deeper as Lotor shook apart above him.

“Please,” he gasped, “Shiro, please- Ah!”

He came with cry and Shiro swallowed him down, worked him through it. He drew back at last to look up at Lotor, dazed and still breathing hard.

“Should I…” Lotor started nervously. “Do you want me to-?”

“I don’t want you doing anything you don’t want to,” Shiro said as he shoved his hand impatiently into his own pants, pressing his face against Lotor’s thigh to muffle his groan. He felt Lotor’s hands descending to his hair, felt him shaking faintly. And _fuck_ it was so good, just this- touching himself on his knees in front of Lotor after just having given him his mouth, given him what was likely his first orgasm with another man, with anyone.

This was just the beginning, everything was still ahead of them. Shiro was going to show him everything, was going to take everything he had to offer. He imagined it, how delicious it would be when Lotor gave himself over, how hot and tight he’d be inside, how he would moan, how sweetly he’d beg for it.

He came with a gasp and stilled, wiping his hand on his pants before looking up again. Lotor seemed dazed as he reached out to stroke Shiro's face, flushing when Shiro leaned into the touch.

Shiro smiled up at him. He looked a mess with his clothes rumpled and in disarray, hair escaping his neat braid. His pants were still open, his tunic was rucked up to show off a strip of smooth skin, his toned abs.

“I’m going to make such a mess of you,” Shiro whispered, grinning at the way Lotor’s eyes widened. “This was a good start,” he continued as he stood, toeing off his boots. “But maybe next time we’ll get you out of your pants, too.”

He stripped off his clothes before climbing on the bed to lay down, patting the spot beside him. Lotor took off his pants but left his tunic on- curious. He moved closer uncertainly and Shiro pulled him in, moving to wrap his arm around him.

“Are you alright?” he murmured into Lotor’s hair. “Was that alright?”

“I’m… yes,” Lotor said. “Yes, I’m- I’m-”

“Good,” Shiro said with a grin. “Think about what you want, for next time. We’re going to do everything.”

Lotor tightened his arm around Shiro’s chest, ducking his head as he shivered. He really was painfully skittish, but Shiro would break him of that soon. Soon enough he’d have Lotor demanding what he wanted shamelessly and without fear. He didn’t mind the wait.

 

* * *

 

Time seemed to flow slowly like syrup, one golden day stretching into another. Shiro sparred with the generals and young Blade of Marmora agents, the other soldiers and warriors drifting through town like tumbleweeds. He explored the castle and the grounds, finding long-forgotten passages and dusty rooms. The castle was far more vast than it seemed on the outside, and only the parts nearest the town were inhabited.

He found some sort of ancient library full of novels and myths, stories of fancy rather than dry historical texts or instructional manuals. One of the books caught his eye, a small volume in a fine leather binding. The cover depicted two knights, one in red and the other in gold, their armor and weapons picked out in gold leaf, and Shiro smiled as he ran his fingertips over it carefully before slipping the book into the pocket of his coat.

Narti taught him more of her sign language and he progressed quickly. Ezor taught him to pick locks, and Zethrid showed him Galra games. Acxa seemed to be in a fine mood for once, not cursing or glaring nearly as much as usual, though she often made herself scarce.

Lotor was often absent too- taking meetings and disappearing for long hours to do whatever it was he did in his workshop. But he didn’t stay away during the nights anymore and Shiro couldn’t get enough of the time they spent together. He tried to commit it all to memory, every gasp and sigh, every kiss and every first. Lotor’s body was uncharted territory and Shiro wanted to map all of it, discover all of it.

Lotor was eager and greedy, full of heat and lust. But he was oddly shy too, insisting on making love in darkened rooms or with his shirt still on. Shiro wasn’t a fool, he could feel the scars over Lotor’s back. For some reason he wanted to hide them and Shiro wasn’t about to push, not now.

They went slowly and Shiro savoured every moment. When he finally pushed an oil-slick finger inside Lotor for the first time he watched closely as Lotor’s eyes fluttered closed, as his back arched helplessly and his thighs fell open like he was aching for more. He’d begged for more then, while Shiro smiled and bit at his earlobe.

“Hush,” he’d whispered. “In due time.” And then he’d twisted his finger and had Lotor coming with a shocked gasp, just from that. “Gods, you’re perfect,” Shiro murmured with a smile as Lotor looked away, embarrassed.

Shiro didn’t let him stay embarrassed for long, leaning in to kiss him passionately and rut against his thigh until Lotor took mercy on him and slipped his hand down to stroke him.

Everything was perfect, until Shiro nearly forgot what had gotten him into this position in the first place, forgot everything that wasn’t Lotor and the idyllic town around them.

They were at breakfast when the messenger came with a small roll of parchment, and as Lotor read it his face grew blank and cold.

“What is it?” Shiro asked.

“It’s time to return,” Lotor said quietly.

“Here’s a crazy idea,” Ezor said. “What if we just… didn’t.”

“He won’t find us here,” Zethrid said. “We could just-”

“Hide here forever?” Lotor asked sharply as he stood from the table.

“Yeah, maybe,” Acxa said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Would that really be so terrible?”

“You may do as you wish, but I’m going back.”

“Lotor,” Acxa said with a wince but he’d already walked away. “Fuck,” she muttered, dropping her face into her hands.

“We’d better go,” Narti signed. “Before he leaves without us.”

“He wouldn’t,” Shiro said. “He wouldn’t do that. Would he?”

“Name any stupid, reckless, self-sacrificing bit of nonsense and you bet he’d do it,” Acxa muttered before pushing her plate away and standing.

Shiro stood too, walking back to their rooms in a stupor. Lotor was already dressed in his traveling clothes and nearly finished packing. Shiro went to get ready too, not daring to break the bristling silence between them.

Lotor seemed to be lost somewhere far away as he led them down to the stables and saddled his horse as they followed suit. They left town within the hour and Lotor set a brisk pace through the mountains.

As the days passed Shiro was filled with dread. The time they’d spent in the hidden valley had been so comfortable and warm, he didn’t want to return to Zarkon’s court to be surrounded by enemies on every side and with no end in sight.

How many little tricks like this one did Lotor have up his sleeves? How many times could they get away under the pretense of bandits, or whatever other excuses he came up with? Was this to be his life now? Always on edge, on guard, stealing moments here and there- a month or two at a time, if he was lucky. The thought of it made Shiro’s heart ache, but he could see no way out.

A week into their journey it started to rain, the wind blowing so hard that it felt like being pelted with stones rather than just water. After forcing them onwards for a few truly miserable hours Lotor finally relented and they stopped at an inn to dry off and get some rest.

Dinner was a subdued affair as they huddled by the fire in the main room, staring morosely into the bowls of greasy and slightly bitter stew the innkeeper had brought out. The rain was loud outside, drumming on the roof and pelting the windows as the wind howled like a wounded animal. Suddenly everything seemed so painfully dark and overwhelming, but the fire was warm at least, seeping into Shiro’s bones.

He felt oddly tired, but that was probably from riding through the freezing rain. Or maybe it was from the dread filling him up. Or maybe-

Ezor collapsed to the table, knocking over her bowl. Shiro stared, not quite understanding what had happened. And then Narti fell too, followed by Acxa. Lotor jerked to his feet, wild-eyed and swaying, and Shiro looked up at the innkeeper watching them coldly from behind the bar.

Maybe it was the poison then, Shiro found himself thinking before his vision went dark.

 

 


	7. Nine for a kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lotor, bby, I am so sorry ;_;

 

* * *

 

Shiro woke to a pounding headache, alone in a tent. He frowned as he looked around, feeling like he’d been thrown back in time. This was _his tent_ , the tent he’d used when he’d been general of the Altean forces. He was lying on his bedroll, under his blankets. His spare set of armor was on a stand in the corner, along with his black sable cloak with the lion pin that had been a gift from Princess Allura when he’d first been promoted.

“What the-” he muttered, sitting up. There was a pile of clothes at the foot of his bedding and he got dressed as quickly as he could.

There was a chill in the air despite the brazier full of glowing coals in the corner of the tent so he grabbed the cloak to drape over his shoulders before cautiously peering out.

“What the fuck,” he whispered.

He was in the middle of an army camp, the Altean army. The only hint that any time had passed at all was the sorry state of their equipment and the harried looks on the soldier’s faces. They saluted him when they passed, murmuring “Black Lion” respectfully before rushing on their way, not quite meeting his eyes.

Shiro paused, looking around. Had he been… _kidnapped?_ By his own army? And where was-

“Shiro,” Keith called out with a grin, waving as he walked over. “It’s good to see you up and about.”

“Keith,” Shiro said as Keith embraced him warmly. “Keith- what’s going on? What is this? You’re gathering troops? That’s against the treaty-”

“Fuck the treaty,” Keith spit out. “Zarkon’s been sending soldiers disguised as bandits past our borders for weeks now. He’s not holding to the treaty, he’s trying to provoke us-”

“And you let yourself get provoked,” Shiro said. “If you give him any reason at all he’ll destroy us.”

“He’ll do it anyway,” Keith said. “I really- I thought you’d be happy to be home, Shiro.”

“Home,” Shiro echoed as he looked around the camp. The word seemed so empty now. He couldn’t help feeling like his home was somewhere else.

“Keith,” Shiro said, his eyebrows drawing down into a frown. “Where’s Lotor.”

Keith crossed his arms over his chest, glowering. “Where he belongs.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Shiro demanded. “Where is he? Take me to him.”

“Why does it matter? Why do you care? Zarkon just- just- _gave_ you to him like you were some plaything, aren’t you happy to be free?”

“Keith. _Now.”_

“Fine,” Keith hissed, turning on his heel and leading the way through the camp towards a small clearing.

“Lotor,” Shiro whispered, his eyes widening as he came into view. There were two posts set into the ground and Lotor was kneeling shirtless and barefoot between them, his arms spread wide and his wrists tied to the posts. His head was hanging down, his hair messy and lank as it hung down and trailed on the ground.

“What the fuck, Keith!” Shiro yelled as he rushed over and fell to his knees before Lotor, pushing his hair out of his face. His eyes were open but empty. He didn’t react at all to Shiro touching him, calling his name. His skin was so cold but he wasn’t shivering and that- that couldn’t be good. Shiro got to his feet and pulled out his dagger before starting to saw through the ropes binding one of Lotor’s wrists.

As he worked he couldn’t help catching a glimpse of Lotor’s back, his heart sinking as he saw the crisscrossing scars- lash marks. Two months they’d been together and Lotor had still insisted on hiding this from him, and now he was bare in the middle of an enemy camp for all to see.

“It’s good for morale to see him brought low,” Keith said coldly. “The men were afraid of him. They aren’t anymore.”

“I can’t believe you,” Shiro said furiously. “This is what we’re doing now? Torturing prisoners?”

“It’s hardly torture,” Keith scoffed.

Shiro had finally cut through the first set of ropes and paused briefly to drape his cloak over Lotor’s shoulders as he sagged bonelessly to the ground.

“Where are the others?” Shiro asked, moving on to free his other hand.

“I sent his generals to Altea, to be tried for war crimes.”

“Get them back, Keith.”

“What the fuck are you doing?” Keith demanded. “It’s only been a few months and you’ve turned on us? For what? For- for- _him?”_

Finally the ropes were free and Shiro knelt again to get Lotor’s arm around his shoulders before taking him by the waist and hauling him up. He still hadn’t made so much as a sound and Shiro was terrified.

“I know you like them _pretty,”_ Keith scoffed, “but I didn’t think fucking the enemy would make you forget who you were.”

“Don’t you dare say another poisonous word to me,” Shiro growled. “Get them back _now_ , I swear on all that is holy you have no idea what you’re fucking around with. You’ll get us all killed, do you understand? Get them back!”

He half carried half dragged Lotor back to his tent and laid him out in bed, pausing to rip his shirt off before climbing in after him. He hissed as he came into contact with Lotor’s icy back and tucked the cloak and all the blankets around the two of them, holding him close.

He wanted to apologize but he had no words. He had a feeling Lotor couldn’t hear him right now anyway.

An hour later Lotor started shivering and Shiro held on tighter, the painful grip of terror easing at last. He must have dozed off, because when he woke the coals in the brazier were burned out and the air was freezing.

“Lotor,” Shiro whispered but got no response. He seemed warmer though, his heartbeat steadier. He needed to eat, probably. Or at least to drink something hot, anything to just- wake him _up._ “I’m going to see about some food,” Shiro said. He stood, wincing as the cold flooded in, and made sure Lotor was covered up before putting his shirt back on.

It was dark and even colder outside and Shiro wrapped his arms around himself as he stood, suddenly at a loss. There was some commotion in the distance and he looked up to see an odd procession- Keith at the head of a column of soldiers, and between them the four generals.

They seemed angry but unharmed and Shiro felt faint with relief.

“Get inside,” he told them, jerking his head towards the tent. Acxa glared but did as she was told, the others following.

“Have someone bring in food,” Shiro ordered. “And get our things. We’re leaving in the morning.”

“You’re not serious,” Keith said flatly.

“I’m dead serious, Keith. And you’re going to send these men home, do you understand? The war is _over.”_

He walked back into the tent just in time for Acxa to turn on him, fists raised.

“You pox-ridden bastard,” she snarled. “What did you do to him? After everything he did for you-”

Zethrid grabbed her around the middle to hold her back.

“I had nothing to do with this,” Shiro insisted. Despite the fact that Acxa was still straining against Zethrid’s arms in an attempt to hit him, despite her furious cursing, Shiro’s eyes were drawn to the bed. Ezor was curled up around Lotor’s back and he had his face buried against Narti’s shoulder as she stroked his hair. His shoulders were shaking but Shiro had no idea if it was from the cold or something else.

“I swear,” Shiro said. “Please-”

“Fat fucking chance,” Acxa growled before spitting on the ground at his feet. “I thought you were one of us! But you’ve just been biding your time, haven’t you? Waiting to turn on us. He risked _everything_ for you, you ungrateful son of a whore! Zarkon wanted to torture you to death and have done with it! Lotor didn’t have to help you- he could have left you to your fate. But he spent _weeks_ scheming and manipulating, debasing himself- all to plant the idea of this thrice-cursed marriage in Zarkon’s head- to protect you!”

“Acxa,” Shiro bit out. “I didn’t do this! I didn’t-”

He stopped abruptly when a pair of soldiers walked in without so much as a by-your-leave and set a tray down on a nearby camp desk. “Dinner,” one of them said, glaring at Shiro oddly before leaving.

For lack of anything better to do he walked over and raised the cover, staring uncomprehendingly at the so-called food before him. It was some sort of unidentifiable slop, smelling of refuse and- and- horseshit. Shiro slammed the cover back down, nostrils flaring in anger.

What- the _fuck._

Acxa sagged in Zethrid’s arms, and then she started to laugh.

Shiro looked over at her in shock.

“Apologies, Black Lion,” she forced out between chuckles. “Looks like you’re one of us after all. Welcome to the shit house.”

 

* * *

 

In the morning Shiro was half expecting someone to stop them, but he left the tent to find their horses tethered outside along with the rest of their things and the Altean army simply- gone. Keith had moved the camp without even saying goodbye.

“Fuck,” Shiro muttered as Acxa came out to join him and walked over to Sincline, stroking her face gently before getting some spare clothes for Lotor out of the saddlebag.

“Fuck is right,” Acxa said. “This little misadventure cost us two days, at least.”

“That’s not really what I’m upset about,” Shiro managed, thinking about the way Keith had looked at him, like Shiro had betrayed him. What the hell was he doing, really? He didn’t know anymore. Maybe he’d never known.

There was movement at the corner of his eye and he turned to see Narti leading Lotor out of the tent.

“Lotor,” Shiro said, stepping forward carefully. “Are you alright?”

Lotor didn’t answer. Just a week ago he’d been moaning Shiro’s name in their bed and now he was looking at him like he was a stranger. Shiro swallowed nervously. He’d forgotten how they’d gotten here, forgotten the way Lotor had looked after the final battle- cold and lost. Like this.

Shiro fumbled to unfasten his cloak pin, stepping forward to drape the heavy garment over Lotor’s shoulders. “I didn’t do this- I wouldn’t have done this. I’m sorry.”

Lotor tightened his lips into a tense line and looked away, but at least he didn’t move to take off the cloak.

“Lotor, please,” Shiro tried again as Lotor walked over to mount his horse.

“Let him be,” Acxa said quietly. “We need to go.”

Shiro nodded before climbing into his saddle. The rest of the journey was miserable. Shiro’s thoughts were racing with too many worries to keep straight. What was Keith up to? Knowing him, he wasn’t about to disband the army no matter what Shiro had said. And maybe he was right not to. Maybe he was telling the truth about Zarkon sending in soldiers, trying to provoke another war. Shiro wouldn’t put it past him, he was capable of anything.

He had no illusions about what would happen if another conflict broke out. Altea would be crushed under Zarkon’s heel, utterly and completely. But maybe that would happen anyway, even without more war. It would happen gradually, a slow suffocation as Zarkon squeezed the life out of them. Maybe it was better to stand and fight, take a chance.

Through it all Lotor didn’t say a word, didn’t look at him, didn’t _eat._ As they got closer to Daibazaal Shiro felt dread filling him like ice in his gut. After spending two golden months in paradise the thought of returning into the jaws of the enemy was even more painful.

When they rode into the city Shiro couldn’t help noticing the strange bristling tension thrumming through the streets. There were more guards on the walls than there had been when they’d left, more patrols. The townsfolk seemed worried, hurrying to-and-fro with their eyes lowered to the ground.

Once they got to the stables a messenger burst in, panting and red faced.

“Prince Lotor- your presence is required in the throne room.”

Lotor nodded and left his horse in the care of the stable hands for the first time that Shiro had seen.

Shiro and the generals followed him through the halls and walked into the throne room in time to see Zarkon raging at a cowering messenger. He turned when they entered, scowling as he stared at Lotor before him.

“Where have you been?” he hissed.

Lotor didn’t hesitate to step forward and kneel, bowing his head. “Apologies, sire. I was taking care of the bandits as you ordered-”

 _“Bandits?”_ Zarkon roared. “You speak to me of bandits? We have an Altean army massing on our borders and you come to me spewing this childish nonsense-”

“Sire,” an older woman said, stepping forward. “Can we really trust these reports?”

“Silence, Dayak,” Zarkon said. “Your input is not needed or wanted here.”

“The reports are true, sire,” Lotor said.

The bottom dropped out of Shiro’s stomach at Lotor’s words. Why would he say that? Was he really so angry over what Keith had done that he would set Altea up for destruction? That wasn’t like him, but then _why-_

Shiro took a half step forward and Acxa grabbed him tightly by the upper arm, holding him still.

“I’ve seen the Altean army with my own eyes,” Lotor continued. “We had to skirt around them on our return, that was why we were delayed.”

“Is that so,” Zarkon said, his eyes glittering. “Then I suppose we have no choice. If they’re readying to move against us we must move first.”

“You can’t!” Shiro cried out. “We signed a treaty-”

Acxa yanked him back but it was already too late. Zarkon was staring right at him with his oddly bright eyes, almost glowing in the gloom of the firelit hall.

“If they’re massing an army, they’ve broken the treaty,” Zarkon said. “Or am I to understand you’re calling Prince Lotor a liar?”

Lotor’s shoulders hunched but otherwise he stayed silent. Shiro stared wide-eyed, caught between looking at Zarkon and Lotor kneeling before him.

“Well? Are you calling him a liar?”

Acxa’s nails were digging painfully into his arm, hard enough to draw blood if he weren’t wearing a leather jerkin.

“No,” Shiro said. “I’m- he’s not lying.”

“I see,” Zarkon said, his lips curling up into a cruel smirk. “So you’ve spoken out of turn at my council for no reason at all?”

Shiro froze, not sure what he’d just walked into or how to navigate it.

“Sire,” Lotor said, “please forgive my failure. It was my duty to make sure the Black Lion understood his place. His error is my error, his flesh is my flesh. Please allow me to take his punishment as well as my own.”

Shiro’s mouth dropped open in shock. What the-

“Shut _up,”_ Acxa hissed. “You fucked up, don’t make it worse.”

“Very well,” Zarkon said magnanimously. “General Sendak?”

Shiro watched as Sendak stepped forward with a grin, and- and he had a whip. “Wait-” he managed.

 _“Shut up,”_ Acxa growled. “Just shut the _fuck_ up.”

Shiro stared at Lotor, pushing his- _Shiro’s-_ black cloak off his shoulders before methodically unbuttoning his leather jerkin and pulling off his tunic. He swept his hair over one shoulder to reveal his naked scarred back before bracing his hands on the ground.

“Begin,” Zarkon ordered, almost sounding bored.

At the first slap of the whip Shiro flinched but couldn’t look away. Lotor didn’t make a single sound through it all, not on the fifth lash, not on the tenth, not when his back was a mess of blood and it was soaking into his trousers and dripping to the flagstones.

It felt like it lasted for a horrifying eternity, and then Sendak was finally stepping back. Without the steady slapping blows of the whip the hall fell silent and suddenly Shiro could hear Lotor’s harsh breathing.

“Thank you, sire,” Lotor said as he slowly got to his feet.

Zarkon stalked closer, taking Lotor’s face and tilting it upwards. “Look at you,” he murmured with a sharp smile. “No longer a sniveling quim. Perhaps your exile made a man of you after all.”

“Yes, sire,” Lotor breathed out.

“Perhaps you can serve me yet,” Zarkon said thoughtfully.

“I’d be honored to serve you in any way I can, sire,” Lotor said. “I live to obey.”

“See that you do, else you won’t be living much longer.” Zarkon shoved Lotor away roughly. Lotor stumbled, slipping on the blood-slick floor, but somehow managed to stay standing. “Clean yourself up,” Zarkon said with a scowl. “You’re making a mess.”

Lotor turned to walk stiffly out of the hall. Ezor darted forward to grab his discarded clothing before all five of them were following, Acxa still holding tight to Shiro’s arm to lead him out.

Shiro felt breathless as he walked, unable to look away from Lotor’s ravaged and bleeding back. There was a loud rushing in his ears and it sounded like screaming. It was over, everything was over. Altea would be destroyed, everyone he cared about would end up lying dead on the battlefield- and Lotor.

Lotor.

What about Lotor?

Lotor had betrayed him, saved him. He was hurt, he was an accomplice, he was a victim, a perpetrator, he was everything and nothing all at once, powerful and powerless. Shiro thought he’d known what was going on in his mind but he’d been wrong time and time again and now Lotor was leaving bloody footprints over the flagstones and Shiro’s heart was aching. He felt nauseous and afraid and lost like never before.

Zethrid opened the door to Lotor’s rooms and as soon as Lotor stepped inside he staggered and fell to his knees with a sharp gasp, bracing himself on his hands so he wouldn’t collapse completely.

Narti rushed forward, dropping to her knees in front of him and pulling him close so he’d have something to lean on. The other generals sprang into action while Shiro just stood, watching in a stupor.

Lotor shook and cried out in Narti’s arms, all his stoic silence melted to nothing.

The door slammed open and an elderly woman stormed in, the woman from before- Dayak.

“Water,” she said.

“Here,” Acxa said, bringing over a basin.

“Get him to the bed,” Dayak ordered.

Lotor shivered in Narti’s arms, gasping for breath.

“Get _up,_ foolish boy!” Dayak exclaimed. “Get up! We can’t carry you without hurting you further- _get up!”_

“He can’t,” Acxa said. “He’s-”

“Fine,” Dayak hissed. “You two-” She pointed at Zethrid and Narti. “Get him up, get him-”

They moved to do as she said, sliding under Lotor’s shoulders before pulling him to his feet while he screamed in agony. They dragged him off to the bedroom and Shiro could only stare as the door slammed shut behind them.

He knew he wouldn’t be welcome in that room, not now. He knew there was nothing he could do either way. This was all his fault.

He sat at the dining table and startled when something caught on the chair- the strap of his traveling bag. He still had it slung over his shoulder and he took it off, setting it on the table.

There was a muffled scream from the other room and Shiro winced, trying to shove it away, out of his thoughts. There was nothing he could do about that. There was nothing he could do about anything.

He rooted through his pack in a stupor until he found that book again, the book he’d taken from the forgotten library back in the hidden valley. He ran his fingers over the cover, remembering how good it had been back then, just a scant two weeks ago. He’d been happy. Lotor had been happy too, and they’d been safe and _together_ -

There was another anguished cry and Shiro dragged a chair over to the window, settling down to open the book. He’d take anything to get him away from here, to distract him from the horror around him. The horror he’d done, the horror being done unto him and the people around him.

He couldn’t leave or escape, not physically. So he opened the book, and let that take him away.

As he read he tried not to listen, not to wonder what was happening in the other room, tried not to feel guilty.

 

* * *

 

“Get some real sleep,” Acxa muttered as she kicked him in the shin the following morning.

Shiro startled awake, wincing as his aching neck and back made themselves known.

“I don’t want to crowd him,” he managed to say, looking away from her.

“He’s not such a big man,” she said. “There’s room in that bed for both of you.”

“I’m fine,” Shiro said, closing the book still open over his lap.

“Yeah,” Acxa said. “Sure.”

“I didn’t mean to- I didn’t know-” Shiro stopped with a wince. He did, he’d known, he’d seen the old whip scars back at the army camp. He’d run his fingers over them countless times, and once, on a particularly dark night, his lips. He should have kept his mouth shut, but-

“Whatever,” Acxa muttered. “I don’t know if they’ll bring breakfast, if it’ll be worth eating. Narti and Ezor went to see.”

“Thank you,” Shiro said, looking down.

He was at a complete loss now, totally without a plan- not that he’d ever really had one.

He spent the day at the window, watching Galra training and troop maneuvers, watching the hustle and bustle of an army preparing for war.

He slept in the chair again that night and the following day nothing had changed. Eventually he screwed up the courage to walk into the bedroom and sit in a chair next to the bed to watch Lotor sleeping. He seemed oddly peaceful even with the bandages wrapped tight around his torso, speckled here and there with blood.

The generals weren’t exactly excited about making small talk so Shiro spent his days sitting close while Lotor slept and recovered. Shiro read the book he’d taken, a story about a knight and a prince, falling in love.

Sometimes it was engaging enough to make him forget, but most of the time he was sick with fear and guilt, rage and betrayal.

The characters in the book went through such trials and hardships that Shiro’s heart ached for them, and it was a welcome respite for how his heart ached for Altea, for himself and for Lotor. And then he got to the end, the wedding, the vows.

As he read the vows the knight recited he remembered them falling from his own lips. _Your flesh is my flesh,_ the knight said, Shiro had said. Lotor had said it too, back in the hall. He remembered. Maybe he remembered the rest, too. Maybe he'd meant it.

“You should have left when you had the chance.”

Shiro startled and looked up to see Lotor watching him with heavy-lidded eyes. Shiro reached out carefully to brush a lock of hair out of Lotor’s face, tucking it behind his ear.

“Now we’re both going to die here,” Lotor whispered before turning away.

 

 


	8. Ten for a bird

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick warning for homophobic slurs and general violence!

 

* * *

 

 

“What is this?” Shiro asked when two servants brought in a chest and set it on the dining table.

“Feast clothes,” one of them said.

“What for?”

“For the feast,” the servant said with a scowl.

“I’m not slow,” Shiro snapped, “I’m asking what the feast is for.”

“War,” Lotor said quietly behind him. Shiro turned to see him standing in the doorway to the bedroom, leaning heavily on the doorframe. It was the first time he’d seen Lotor standing in at least a week. “The army marches tomorrow,” Lotor added.

“The feast starts at sundown, you’re both to attend,” the other servant said.

“Thank you,” Lotor said with a polite nod before they left.

“So it’s really happening,” Shiro said, watching Lotor walk over carefully. “Isn’t there anything we can do?” Even as he asked it he knew what the answer was. There would be war simply because Zarkon wished it. There was no other reason for it, no way to stop it. Zarkon would find an excuse, and if he couldn’t he’d march without one.

Lotor tightened his lips and shook his head. He walked closer and raised his hands to open the chest, wincing as the motion no doubt pulled on the healing gashes over his back.

“I’ll do it,” Shiro muttered, pushing Lotor’s hands back to his sides. The chest contained two sets of ornate robes- one black and the other white. “Maybe we could skip it. You should be resting, not gallivanting about right now.”

“We can’t,” Lotor said. “There will be punishment otherwise, and I can’t take another at the moment.”

“I can take my turn,” Shiro said with a wry smile. “After all- your flesh is my flesh.”

“Then we’ll both be injured. It’s senseless.”

Shiro sighed heavily. Lotor was right- no matter how unpleasant the feast would be, it was better than catching a beating. But he didn’t have to like it.

“We have a few hours until then,” Shiro said. “Rest, I’ll wake you when it’s time.”

“Thank you,” Lotor said before returning to the bedroom and leaving Shiro standing in the main room alone, staring down at the clothes.

He wished the feast would never come, which was of course why time seemed to slip past him like sand in an hourglass. Before he knew it he was helping Lotor put on his robes and tie back his hair.

He felt strange as the two of them walked through the halls, like something wasn’t right. But of course- _everything_ wasn’t right, hadn’t been for a long time. Lotor’s admission to seeing Altean forces massing, his _whipping-_ it had shifted the ground underneath Shiro’s feet somehow. But he’d been standing on quicksand even before that, ever since their first kiss, their vows, the moment Lotor had first looked at him, back in his tent so long ago. Maybe even before then- ever since that first glimpse of Lotor dressed in white, galloping out of the dark forest with his silver hair streaming behind him.

Shiro had been standing in quicksand without realizing it and now it had finally reached his neck and it was too late.

The hall was raucous with celebration, loud with shouts and laughter and drummers that played a beat that made Shiro’s heart pound with excitement despite himself. They were playing a war song.

Zarkon was holding court at the head table with Sendak on one side and his witch on the other. He had his hand on Sendak’s shoulder as he said something with a laugh. When Sendak saw them walking over he smirked and raised his hand like he was about to clap Lotor on the back and Shiro took a step forward, angling his body to shield him. Sendak dropped his hand with a scowl.

“Sire, General Sendak,” Lotor greeted them politely.

Shiro stayed silent as he sat next to Sendak. The man made his skin crawl but at least that way Lotor wouldn’t have to sit next to him. Sendak’s clear annoyance was only a bonus. Thankfully Sendak didn’t pay much attention to either of them after that, speaking mostly to Zarkon and the generals that occasionally came by to pay their respects.

The food looked and smelled delicious and Shiro forced himself to choke it down despite his lack of appetite. Lotor didn’t seem particularly hungry either but he drank cup after cup of wine, his eyes growing glassy and heavy lidded. Barely an hour into the feast he nearly knocked over his cup reaching for it and Shiro had to move fast to steady it before it spilled all over the table.

He threw a nervous look at Zarkon but thankfully neither he nor Sendak seemed to have noticed and Shiro pulled the cup away from Lotor’s reaching hands. He drained it before setting it down and raising his eyebrows pointedly at Lotor beside him. Lotor’s lips twisted into a frown that almost seemed petulant, and then he brought his trembling hand to his mouth. He was flushed and sweating, his breathing coming loud and harsh.

“Are you alright?” Shiro asked quietly.

Lotor shook his head and winced, closing his eyes. “I feel… unwell.”

“Maybe we should go-”

Sendak finally looked over at that. “Leaving early, as usual? You never could hold your liquor.”

“I’m gonna hurl,” Lotor breathed out, slurring a little.

Zarkon looked over then too, his eyebrows drawn down in disgust. “Not here, you aren’t. Get out. I refuse to look at this pathetic display a moment longer.”

“Yes sire,” Lotor managed. “Apologies, sire. Thank you, sire.”

“Come on,” Shiro said as he stood, taking Lotor by the arm to help him up. Lotor swayed on his feet before grabbing Shiro’s shoulder to steady himself, and then they were skirting the edges of the hall and walking out.

Shiro took them back through the gardens. If Lotor was going to throw up it would be better if he did it outside. Even if he didn’t, the fresh air might help steady him, clear his head a little. Maybe it was working- he already seemed to be walking a little straighter, leaning less heavily on Shiro beside him even though he didn’t let go of Shiro’s arm.

They hadn’t been out in the gardens since before leaving to hunt “bandits” months ago and Shiro was surprised at how different everything looked. There were flowers lining the paths now, blood red even under the cool moonlight. Lotor stopped and let go of Shiro before kneeling to pick one, bringing it up to his nose as he straightened.

“Of course,” he murmured. “Poppies.” He tucked the flower into the breast pocket of his robes with a sad smile. The bright red against the snow-white fabric looked like a wound and Shiro shuddered, looking away.

“Do they mean something?” he asked.

“They’re an omen of what’s to come,” Lotor said. He wasn’t slurring at all anymore, and when he started walking he seemed perfectly steady.

“You’re not drunk at all, are you,” Shiro said flatly. But he’d seen him drinking for himself-

“Certainly not as drunk as I may have appeared,” Lotor said with a wry smile. “I nearly drank myself to death in the first few years of my exile. As a result I’ve developed a bit of a tolerance.”

“A bit,” Shiro snorted. He must have had at least a bottle and a half’s-worth of wine and now he was acting like it was nothing. “So it was just a trick to get out of there? Aren’t you worried you’ll be punished for making an ass of yourself?”

“I didn’t want to waste our last night on feasting. Unless you’d like to go back?”

“Gods no,” Shiro said with a shudder.

“Come then,” Lotor said, taking his hand.

As they walked back to their room a strange sense of urgency seemed to fill Lotor, practically spilling out of him to infect Shiro as well. His heart was beating faster, his palm was growing sweaty and he didn’t know why- not until they were inside their chambers and Lotor was turning on him. His eyes were dark, his pupils blown and his cheeks flushed. He took Shiro by the shoulders and pressed him up against the door before surging in for a frantic kiss.

Shiro moaned into the kiss and went to wrap his arm around Lotor’s waist only to pull up short. His back- he was hurt-

 _“Shiro,”_ Lotor moaned, stepping even closer to press their bodies fully together. He was hard and Shiro was too, but he couldn’t help feeling this was wrong somehow- wrong place, wrong time, wrong everything.

“Wait,” Shiro said, turning his face away from the kiss. Lotor wasn’t deterred, moving to slide his lips down Shiro’s neck, sucking bruises into his skin. Shiro closed his eyes with a shudder, sagging against the wall. His head was swimming but there was something he’d wanted-

“Wait,” he tried again, pushing Lotor away gently. “You’re- drunk, and- and hurt. Maybe this isn’t the best time-”

“This is the only time,” Lotor said. “Please, I’ll beg if I must. Make love to me, Shiro. Tonight- now.”

How was Shiro supposed to say no to that? Lotor smiled in a way he hadn’t seen in such a long time, and then Lotor was taking his hand and pulling him into the bedroom.

Lotor stopped before the bed, raising his hands to the clasps of his robes. He was facing away but Shiro could still see the way his shoulders tensed with pain.

“Wait,” he said, stepping forward. “Let me.” He stopped just shy of pressing his chest to Lotor’s back, leaning forward kiss the side of his neck as he moved his hand around to open the fastenings for him. Shiro was careful as he pushed the robes off his shoulders and unbuttoned the tiny buttons going down the front of Lotor’s shirt.

He wasn’t wearing anything underneath, nothing but bandages, and Shiro took the time to press a kiss to the sensitive spot behind his ear, to run his fingers down his chest and sides, dipping below the waistband teasingly before he reached down to cup Lotor’s erection through his trousers, giving him a slow squeeze.

“Ahh-” Lotor breathed out, reaching back to grab Shiro’s hips.

Shiro stroked him for a while, reveling in the way he shivered and gasped, and then Lotor was pulling away and turning so he could open his pants.

“Sit,” Shiro said, and Lotor sat on the bed to let Shiro kneel and take off his boots. He raised his hips obligingly when Shiro pulled his pants off and then he was leaning forward to open the clasps on Shiro’s clothes, too.

Shiro couldn’t help feeling a little worried as he lay down, worried about Lotor’s injuries, about doing this at all-

But then Lotor was straddling him and bending down to kiss him, clutching at his shoulders.

“Still alright?” Shiro murmured against his mouth even as Lotor shifted over him, moving to take both their cocks in hand. His movements were sure and steady and he moaned quietly, they both did.

“Shiro- the oil,” Lotor breathed out.

“Where-?”

“Nightstand,” Lotor said and Shiro pulled away just long enough to search for it. He uncorked the small bottle with his teeth before Lotor was taking it and pouring it clumsily over his hand. He brought his fingers down to push inside himself while Shiro watched, barely daring to breathe.

“Mmn,” Lotor moaned, his other hand tightening over Shiro’s shoulder. He was trembling as he worked himself open and Shiro stroked his thigh.

They’d done this much before, but they hadn’t gone further and Shiro was practically shaking with anticipation, with how much he wanted this. Lotor was hot and impatient over him, thrusting his fingers inside himself, breathing harshly with his back arched and his head thrown back. Shiro was captivated as he watched the moonlight playing over Lotor’s skin, his hair. He wanted to touch himself but he wanted to touch Lotor more, so he stroked his fingers over Lotor’s quivering thighs, his taut stomach.

Eventually Lotor fished the bottle of oil out of the sheets again and poured more slick over Shiro’s cock. He pulled his fingers away before shifting, biting his lip as he moved to sink down on his length.

“Easy,” Shiro whispered, gripping Lotor’s hip. “Easy now, there’s no rush.”

Shiro groaned as the head of his cock was enveloped in the tight heat of Lotor’s body. Lotor tried to push down further only to stop with a small pained sound, breathing hard.

“Easy,” Shiro said, stroking his hip soothingly. “You need to slow down, you need to relax.”

Lotor looked down, huffing with frustration. “It felt so good before, and now it’s just-“

“I know,” Shiro said with a small smile. “You’re trying to force it. It doesn’t work that way. Can you come down here to me? Can you kiss me?”

Lotor sighed as he did what Shiro asked, and then they were kissing as Shiro ran his fingers through Lotor’s hair before gripping tight and pulling him closer. Lotor moaned as Shiro deepened the kiss, and slowly he relaxed.

“That’s it,” Shiro whispered, letting his hand drift down to Lotor’s ass to hold him in place as Shiro planted his feet on the bed for leverage and started to rock into him gently.

Lotor gasped, but not with pain this time, and Shiro smiled against his lips.

“That’s it, let me in,” Shiro said, working into him carefully. “Just open up for me, relax for me.”

“Shiro,” Lotor moaned, burying his face against Shiro’s neck.

“How’s that? Is that good?”

“Yes,” Lotor sighed.

“You feel so good around me,” Shiro whispered in his ear, speeding up when Lotor shifted to spread his thighs wider, to take him in deeper.

 _“Shiro,”_ Lotor whimpered, shaking all over as Shiro fucked into him.

“Yeah, baby-” Shiro said. “Yeah, that’s it, there you go, I’ve got you-” Lotor was tight and hot around him, breathing harshly and clutching at his shoulders. Shiro angled himself to hit his prostate and Lotor’s resulting cry was like music.

“Can you touch yourself for me?” Shiro asked and Lotor slipped his hand between them to stroke himself as Shiro moved. “Gods, you’re so beautiful,” Shiro muttered helplessly, “so perfect. So good for me, you feel-”

Lotor moved to take his lips in a desperate kiss, hot and messy. Shiro tightened his grip on his ass, pulling him in closer as he sped up. The world narrowed to the two of them, lost in this moment together. Nothing else mattered, nothing but Lotor’s whimpers, the way he clutched at Shiro’s shoulders, kissed him.

Shiro could feel it as his muscles tightened, as the motion of his hand faltered. They weren’t so much kissing anymore as panting against each other’s mouths and Shiro pulled away to whisper into Lotor’s ear.

“Come for me baby, I want to feel you-”

Lotor grew silent and still and then he was gasping as Shiro felt his release spill between their bodies. And then he was coming too, his hips thrusting helplessly a few more times as he chased every last bit of pleasure.

He pulled out of Lotor’s body and let go of his ass before raising his hand to stroke his hair instead. They didn’t move for several long minutes as Lotor trembled on top of him. And then he _sobbed_ and Shiro’s heart sank.

“Hey,” he said quietly. “Hey- what’s wrong? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Lotor shook his head and tightened his grip over Shiro’s shoulders.

“What is it?” Shiro whispered. “What’s wrong?”

“I- I don’t want it to be over,” Lotor said, his voice shaky and weak, and then he was weeping outright and all Shiro could do was hold him close and stroke his hair.

“It’s going to be alright,” he said with a conviction he didn’t feel.

How could it be alright? The Galra army was marching in the morning and Lotor was going with them. Shiro had no idea what his own fate would be and he’d been too afraid to ask. Somehow he doubted they’d drag him along on their campaign. He probably wouldn’t have wanted that anyway. Most likely someone would come for him in the morning to put him in a cell while Lotor was gone- or worse. Maybe they’d give him back to the witch.

Without Lotor he’d be alone with no one to watch out for him, alone with the knowledge that all his friends and family were being slaughtered while he couldn’t do a single thing about it.

“It’s going to be alright,” he repeated, and that time he was trying to convince himself.

 

* * *

 

Shiro woke with the distinct feeling that something was wrong. There was a bell tolling in the distance and strange flickering blue light pouring in through the windows. He frowned as he climbed out of bed to take a look, his eyes widening when he saw the barracks were engulfed in ghostly blue flames. Panicked shouting carried up to him on the wind and he watched small figures running around trying to put out the fire.

He’d seen flames like that before, on Lotor’s blade.

Lotor.

Shiro turned back to the bed but it was empty. Lotor wasn’t in the main room, either- of course he wasn’t. He had a sinking feeling in his gut, like what had just happened between them was Lotor’s way of saying goodbye.

Shiro hurried to get dressed, putting on his traveling clothes and sword belt, sliding his dagger into his boot. Just in case, he draped his black cloak over it all- to hide that he was armed, to blend into the shadows.

He went to the door and paused as he heard clanging footsteps rushing past- a patrol. Leaning forward, he tried to listen but he couldn’t make out what they were saying. Once they were gone he opened the door and slipped out into the corridor. Something was happening, something big. The halls smelled of smoke and blood, sweat and fear.

Shiro wasn’t sure where he was going but he followed some faint gut feeling as he walked deeper into the palace. There were more panicked guards and patrols and Shiro pressed himself to the wall as he waited for them to pass. They were babbling something about curses, wights, witchcraft- vengeance.

As his feet carried him further Shiro slowly realized where it was he was headed. He’d only been there once before but he remembered the way well enough- Zarkon’s rooms.

He was just a few hallways away when he came across the first bodies, two guards slumped lifeless on the ground. Their deaths had been brutal and messy and a trail of bloody footprints led away from the scene. Shiro followed, keeping his hand on his sword hilt as he went. He felt sick- there were more bodies, more blood. The guards were hacked apart with some gruesome fury that only seemed to intensify the closer he got.

He turned the corner and saw that the door to Zarkon’s rooms was standing open, and then he heard Zarkon’s voice.

“You want the throne?” Zarkon snarled. “You’re too weak to take it. You’ll always be weak.”

“You speak to me of weakness?” Lotor’s voice rang out in answer. He sounded strained, in pain. Shiro stole closer, his heart pounding in his chest. “You’ve become nothing more than one of the witch’s puppets. Does she control you as well?”

Zarkon roared and Shiro peered past the doorframe just in time to see Lotor laughing cruelly. He was wearing pants and boots and his white robes- unbuttoned over his chest to reveal the bandages. He was stained red with blood from head to toe, his hair in disarray and his eyes wild and glittering in the torch light. Zarkon was shirtless before him, holding a sword nearly as long as he was tall. There was a festering wound in his torso- the wound from where Shiro had impaled him on the battlefield so long ago.

It seemed _wrong_ \- his flesh was black and his veins dark, he couldn’t have survived the blow Shiro had dealt him and Shiro suddenly realized that maybe he hadn’t. Maybe he was dead after all, just a puppet dancing on the strings of the witch’s magic.

Zarkon moved to strike but Lotor parried his blade as he bared his teeth in a snarl.

“Tell me,” Lotor hissed, “what does it feel like to grow weaker and weaker? Does the memory of power haunt you?”

Zarkon roared in anger and attacked again but Lotor moved to evade his wild slashes. He seemed to be slowing though, breathing hard. His back must have been paining him, he must have been exhausted.

“Is that why you strive for war so desperately?” Lotor demanded as he parried another strike. “Everyone sees it clearly- without battle, without conquest- you’re _nothing.”_

It was too dark to make out exactly what was happening but Shiro saw the moment when Lotor twisted his blade and sent Zarkon’s sword clattering to the floor.

“You want to see my power, you miserable whelp?” Zarkon hissed. “The strength of the Empire flows through my veins, and you will feel its wrath!”

He charged, evading Lotor’s sword, and twisted to pull a dagger from his belt. Lotor didn’t manage to get out of the way in time and Zarkon slammed him into the ground as Lotor screamed in agony.

Shiro could watch no longer, wait no longer. He strode into the room, drawing his own sword as he went, and kicked Zarkon _hard_ in the shoulder to push him off of Lotor. Zarkon fell and Shiro slashed at him, meaning to separate his head from his body, but Zarkon moved faster than should have been possible- rolling out of the way and rising to his feet.

 _“You,”_ he hissed with his eyes narrowed in anger.

Shiro spared a glance at Lotor, fighting to get to his feet. Zarkon’s dagger was embedded in his right shoulder and he was breathing hard as he stared. His hair was red with blood, his face was practically covered in it. He seemed wild and lost and Shiro suddenly felt afraid, afraid to stand beside him, to turn his back to him. But somewhere along the way Lotor had earned his trust and now Shiro had to place his faith in him. He turned to glare at Zarkon, wounded and furious as he stood before them.

“I should have known you filthy fags would find a way to work together,” Zarkon bit out. “I should have strung both of you up when I had the chance and left your stinking corpses swaying in the wind.”

“Yes,” Lotor said coldly. “You should have.”

“But it’s a little late for that now,” Shiro said with a dark grin. He had a chance to end this, just like he’d wanted. He lunged and slashed at Zarkon’s chest with his sword as the man roared with anger. But he was outnumbered and unarmed and Shiro knew it was over. He kicked him in the knee and there was a sickening crack before Zarkon fell. Shiro strode forward and sank down to push his knee to Zarkon’s chest, keeping him pressed to the ground as he lowered his sword to his throat.

“Lotor?” he asked, looking up to watch Lotor staggering closer.

Lotor pulled the dagger out of his shoulder with a grunt before kneeling beside Shiro and looking down at his father with resignation.

“You can’t do this,” Zarkon tried. “You can’t- my son-”

“How long do you think you can you kick a dog before it bites you?” Lotor asked.

“Lotor-”

 _“How long?”_ Lotor yelled.

“I’m sorry-”

“You’re not,” Lotor said. “You’re not. And neither am I. Not anymore.” He moved to slit Zarkon’s throat while Shiro held him down. Zarkon struggled against them uselessly, and then he was a twitching mess as he fought to breathe even as he choked on his own blood. His blood was strangely dark and thick, almost black. It was sickening, and then he was still and Lotor staggered back, dropping the dagger.

Shiro couldn’t help staring at Zarkon’s corpse. He’d returned from the dead once before and Shiro couldn’t allow that to happen again. He brought his sword down hard, severing Zarkon’s head from the rest of his body. Surely that was enough- that had to be enough. He wanted nothing more than to burn down this whole room with Zarkon’s corpse still in it, but there wasn’t time.

“We need to get out of here,” he said.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Lotor said. “Ulaz was supposed to- You weren’t supposed to be here.”

“Lotor!” Shiro hissed, too shaky from the ordeal to stand. He wiped his sword off quickly and sheathed it before reaching out to cradle Lotor’s face. “We have to go. Do you understand me? We have to _go._ Now!”

“You shouldn’t be here,” Lotor muttered, looking past him rather than at him. “You shouldn’t-”

There were footsteps out in the hall and Shiro looked up to see a Galra general walking in flanked by a dozen soldiers.

“Stand down,” the general said. “You’re outnumbered. Stand down, Prince Lotor- Black Lion.”

Lotor let out a shuddering breath as his body sagged into Shiro’s hold. The general was right- they were outnumbered and outmatched. There was nothing more they could do.

 

 


	9. You must not miss.

 

* * *

 

 

Shiro felt numb as the soldiers marched them through the halls towards the throne room. Zarkon was dead and gone, but of course that didn’t mean this was over. Of course it couldn’t be that simple.

The doors opened and Lotor and Shiro were brought forward until they were shoved to their knees before the dais where Sendak stood with the witch at his shoulder. The stained glass window tinted the blue flames still burning outside to a cool purple, giving the whole scene a strange otherworldly glow.

“Lotor,” Sendak said, not even sparing a glance at Shiro.

“Sendak,” Lotor said quietly. He sounded exhausted, but at least he’d managed to gather some of his composure during the walk from Zarkon’s rooms.

“I didn’t think you had it in you,” Sendak said with a smirk. “But you’ve always had a way of surprising me, haven’t you?”

Lotor stayed silent as Sendak walked closer, kneeling on the ground in front of him.

“Maybe if you beg for your life, I’ll have mercy on you,” Sendak said as he traced a finger down Lotor’s cheek. “Maybe if you beg me I’ll keep you as my slave instead of having you executed. Wouldn’t you like that? Wouldn’t you like being safe and cared for, with nothing to worry about other than keeping me happy? You wouldn’t have to submit to anyone else.”

Lotor spit on the ground and Sendak drew back with a scowl before standing.

“Disappointing,” he said. “But have it your way.”

An explosion rocked through the palace and Sendak’s eyes widened. “What was that?”

“The west gate,” Lotor hissed. “My forces are coming for you.”

“Forces?” Sendak laughed even as the witch turned to rush away. “What forces?”

“You didn’t think I was alone, did you?” Lotor asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Sendak said. “They won’t make it inside.”

“They’re already inside.”

Sendak narrowed his eyes in anger. “Whatever forces you have won’t come here fast enough to save you. Kill him.”

Shiro struggled against the soldiers holding him but it was no use.

“Really?” Lotor asked. “You’d have me slaughtered while I’m on my knees? I was hoping for a duel, at least. I was hoping you’d face me like a man.”

Sendak laughed. “Face you like a man?” he scoffed. “You’re not a man. You’re a dog, and you’ll die like a dog. Kill him.”

The general standing at Lotor’s side didn’t move and Shiro frowned in confusion.

“What are you waiting for, General Thace?” Sendak demanded. “Kill him!”

“I’m waiting for orders,” Thace said evenly.

“You have your orders!”

“Not yours,” Thace said.

Lotor narrowed his eyes and tightened his lips as he glared at Sendak. “Take him.”

Thace’s soldiers moved on Sendak as Shiro watched, understanding slowly dawning on him. Sendak tried to fight back but there wasn’t much he could do against the twelve of them. The Blades disarmed him and forced him to his knees while Lotor rose with a wince.

“You’re loyal to the point of being blind,” he said as he stalked closer. “You’re brave to the point of being stupid. I was hoping for a proper fight, but if you’re satisfied with this, I suppose I shall have to be as well.”

He held out his hand and Thace offered up his sword. Sendak didn’t beg or struggle, just bared his teeth as he waited.

“It was always going to end this way, Sendak,” Lotor said quietly. “You really should have known better.”

He plunged the sword through Sendak’s chest, staring into his eyes. Lotor didn’t seem particularly angry, just blank as usual- resigned, at most. He tightened his lips and twisted the blade as Sendak’s eyes widened and he spit out blood, and then Lotor staggered back and Thace’s men let Sendak fall to the ground.

Shiro slowly got to his feet, realizing too late that no one was holding him any longer.

“We should…” he started.

“We should go,” Thace said firmly as he took Lotor by the arm to lead him down the steps.

Lotor seemed unsteady and Shiro stepped closer. “I’ve got him,” he said as he ducked under Lotor’s uninjured arm.

They only met with token resistance as they made their way through the palace. Once they were outside the acrid smell of smoke was so strong Shiro nearly gagged. It seemed like everything was on fire now, the air was full of panicked shouting as soldiers ran to and fro. They were too busy trying to fight back the flames to pay Thace’s procession much mind, and before long they were in the stables.

The horses were wild-eyed with fear but too well trained to panic and Shiro watched the Blades saddling Sincline and a few other horses, including Sendak’s- his. One of the Blades went to the other stalls to let the remaining horses loose.

“Wait,” Shiro said. “Wait- the generals. We can’t leave without them.”

“Who did you think set the fires? The explosion?” Thace growled. “They’re already out of the city, they’ll meet up with us soon enough. Come- get him in the saddle.”

“Right,” Shiro muttered, looking at Lotor beside him. “Come on,” he said. Lotor seemed gone- totally out of it. Shiro could only pull him closer, moving to set Lotor’s hand on Sincline’s saddle. Lotor didn’t react and Shiro turned to look at him, tucking a lock of bloody matted hair behind his ear. “Come on, baby- we have to go.”

“Black Lion,” Thace said pointedly. _“Now-_ we need to leave.”

“Ok,” Shiro said. “Ok, just-”

He didn’t think Lotor could ride on his own, they’d need to ride double. Black, the stallion, was bigger than Sincline and would be better able to take the added weight. Shiro climbed up into Black’s saddle before turning and offering his hand to Lotor. Thankfully Lotor took it and Shiro helped pull him up into the saddle behind him.

“Come,” Thace said, taking Sincline’s reins to urge her to follow. Shiro wrapped Lotor’s arms around his waist and then they were galloping through the yard towards the smoking ruins of the west gate. There were a few shouts from the soldiers still keeping watch on the walls but there was nothing they could do to stop them. They galloped through the dark streets of the city, full of nervous townsfolk whispering fearfully as they watched the blue flames engulfing the palace.

No one moved to stop them and before long they were out in the desert. As the adrenaline faded Shiro noticed that Lotor’s grip was growing weaker and weaker and finally he spurred Black on to ride next to Thace.

“We have to stop,” Shiro said. “He’s hurt- we have to see to him.”

“We’re not far enough away,” Thace said so Shiro reached out and yanked back on his horse’s reins.

“We have to _stop,”_ he hissed firmly. “He’s been bleeding for hours now- stop!”

Thace scowled and then he shot a look at Lotor, sitting slumped over Shiro’s back, and he raised his fist. Their small party came to a sudden stop and Shiro helped them pull Lotor out of the saddle.

He whimpered weakly but otherwise stayed silent and Shiro could only worry. One of the Blades started a fire while Shiro and Thace laid Lotor out over a cloak. They cut the robes away and Shiro could only watch as Thace cleaned Lotor’s shoulder wound and stitched it up.

When he went to change the bandages around his back Lotor roused enough to fight back, so Shiro took him by the back of the neck and leaned forward to whisper-

“Easy- easy now. You’re safe. I’ve got you- you’re safe.”

Lotor stilled with a shuddering gasp and Shiro helped him sit up, keeping Lotor’s forehead pressed to his shoulder while Thace cut away the old bandages. Lotor’s back was a mess all over again, he’d reopened his wounds during his fight with Zarkon, or maybe even before that. Thace worked quickly. Before long he was finished and one of the Blades was bringing over a cup of some steaming bitter-smelling liquid. They forced Lotor to drink before laying him carefully down on his side so he could rest.

“What now?” Shiro asked quietly, stroking Lotor’s hair.

“Now?” Thace asked. For the first time that night he seemed uncertain. “Now we take him home.”

“Feyiv,” Lotor whispered.

Shiro frowned at the unfamiliar word.

“Don’t be a fool,” Thace hissed. “Look at the state of you. The only thing you’ll find at the Kral Zera is your death.”

“With Sendak gone, the others will submit-”

“No,” Thace said firmly.

“I have to take the throne,” Lotor breathed out. “I have to- it’s the only way to stop the war.”

“I’m not taking you to your doom. We’re going home so you can recover. Afterwards we’ll think of something else. A coup, or… something. Rest now, we have to get started again in a few hours.”

Thace stood and Shiro followed him. “What is he talking about?” he asked.

“That knowledge is not for outsiders,” Thace said with a frown.

“You’re not serious,” Shiro said flatly. “Tell me what my husband is talking about or I’ll wake him and ask him my own damn self.”

Thace narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. For a second Shiro thought he was going to refuse, but then he sighed and looked away. “Feyiv is a mountain sacred to our people. It is the site of the Kral Zera, where the next ruler of the Galra will be chosen through a rite of honorable combat.”

“So he’s looking for another fight.”

“Yes,” Thace said. “It’s not always to the death, but they won’t go easy on him. They’ll kill him before they submit to him. Under normal circumstances I have no doubt he could defeat any in a fair fight, but now…”

“Yeah,” Shiro said. “Thank you.”

“Get some rest, Black Lion,” Thace said.

“Shiro,” Shiro said absently, looking back at where Lotor was laying down on the cloak. Someone had draped a thin blanket over him and he seemed to be asleep, though he was clutching at the cloak fitfully. Shiro walked over to lay down behind him and carefully draped his arm over Lotor’s hip.

One of the Blades had wiped his face but there was nothing that could be done about his hair so he smelled sharply of blood. Shiro pressed closer anyway, breathing slowly as he tried to reassure himself with the warmth of Lotor’s body, his steady breathing.

He must have drifted off because the next thing he knew he was on the cloak alone and he pushed himself up with a sigh. He walked past the sleeping Blades towards where the horses were tethered. Lotor was struggling to saddle Sincline and he flinched when Shiro set a hand over his bare shoulder.

“Lotor,” he said quietly. “You’re not seriously thinking of going alone.”

“I have to,” Lotor said, sounding profoundly exhausted. “There won’t be another chance. Just… go home, Shiro. Please.”

“You know if you keep trying to get rid of me, one of these days my feelings will get hurt,” Shiro said with a small smile. He stepped closer and put his hand on the back of Lotor’s neck, bringing their foreheads together.

“Please don’t try to stop me,” Lotor whispered. “I can’t fight you, too.”

“You don’t have to fight me,” Shiro said. He exhaled sharply as he realized it was true. He’d never fight Lotor again- they were in this together and had been for a while, maybe even since the beginning.

“I vow to stand by your side through hardship and prosperity,” he said quietly, meaning every word now like he hadn’t before, back in Zarkon’s throne room where he hadn’t even been quite sure what it was he was saying. “To be your champion and fight when you cannot, defend when you cannot.”

“Shiro,” Lotor said, but Shiro wasn’t deterred. It felt _right_ now, to say his vows here, in the middle of the desert with the stars shining down on them. It was right to do it this way, just the two of them. It was better without an audience, it was real and inescapable, an oath and an unshakable truth.

“My sword is yours, my strength is yours, my fight is yours.”

“You know you don’t have to-”

“My heart is yours to do with as you will,” Shiro continued firmly. “Wherever you go, I shall go. Your flesh is my flesh, your honor is my honor. Where you die I shall die, and there I shall be buried.”

 _“Shiro,”_ Lotor said. “You know you don’t have to keep to those vows. It was all just- it was-”

“Maybe I want you to keep to yours,” Shiro said. “Go on. Say it.”

Lotor shuddered and raised his left hand to hold on to the front of Shiro’s shirt. “I vow to stand by your side through hardship and prosperity,” he started quietly. “To be your champion and fight when you cannot, defend when you cannot. My shield is yours, my wealth is yours, my reign is yours. My heart is yours to do with as you will. Your people are my people, your honor is my honor. Where you die I shall die, and there I shall be buried.”

Shiro leaned in to press a soft kiss to his lips before letting him go.

“Traditional vows include a bit about obeying your husband, but I guess I’m not so lucky,” Shiro said with a wry smile. “Can’t I convince you not to do this?”

“No.”

“Alright then,” Shiro said before stepping back. He pulled off his sable cloak before draping it over Lotor’s bare shoulders. “I can’t believe you were going to run off without even a shirt.”

“What the hell is going on?” Thace asked, walking up just as Shiro finished saddling Sincline.

“We’re going to the Kral Zera,” Shiro said. “Sincline and Black are the fastest so we’ll go on ahead- the rest of you can follow. Summon the generals- they’ll want to be there when their prince becomes a king.”

“This is- this is madness!” Thace sputtered. Lotor ignored him as he climbed up into Sincline’s saddle with a wince.

“Yeah,” Shiro said. “But maybe we could all do with a bit of madness once in a while. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of him.”

“Thank you for your service,” Lotor said. “If we don’t come back-”

“We’re coming back,” Shiro interrupted. “I’ll see to that. Lead the way.”

Lotor nodded and set his jaw, and then he was spurring Sincline onwards and they were riding out together.

 

* * *

 

They rode through the night and most of the following day, taking short breaks to rest the horses. On the second night the sacred fire atop Feyiv came into view and Shiro forced Lotor to rest, though neither of them could really sleep.

“How does this work?” Shiro asked when they rose in the morning. They were close, close enough that they’d arrive by nightfall.

“Whoever takes the sacred fire to the top of the pyramid and lights the eternal flame will be the rightful ruler of the Galra.”

“That sounds simple enough,” Shiro said.

“Yes,” Lotor said with a small smile. “I suppose it does. With Sendak gone there should only be token resistance to my reign. Gods willing things will go smoothly for once.”

“Gods willing,” Shiro echoed. Somehow he doubted it would be that easy.

By noon they were at the base of the mountain and passing between two obsidian pillars that marked the beginning of the path upwards. Shiro looked around nervously- the path was narrow with a sheer cliff to each side, like it had been cut right into the stone. They dismounted to give the horses a break and Shiro held Black’s reins tightly in his grip.

“It’s not too late to turn back,” Shiro said as he traced the path with his eyes. It was treacherous and steep, with even the occasional flat parts covered in loose scree.

“There’s no turning back,” Lotor said grimly, tightening his hands on the reins and starting the long climb upwards.

Shiro followed, looking around nervously. The only sign that Lotor was having any trouble with his injuries was his white-knuckled grip on the reins and his unusually slow gait.

They were halfway there when Shiro heard an odd sound, like boots scuffing on stone, and he turned as he drew his sword. Lotor turned too, his hand going to the hilt of his own weapon. There was nothing there, and then a shadow dropped down from a hidden outcropping of stone and Shiro recognized the figure immediately.

“Ezor,” he said with a smile, putting his sword away.

She grinned as she walked closer, and then the other three generals emerged from their hiding spots.

“Lotor,” Acxa said, her voice trembling with a mixture of relief and worry. She strode over to him and took his face in her hands, pulling him down to press a kiss to his forehead. “You crazy bastard.”

The other generals greeted Shiro before crowding around Lotor too, reaching out to touch him carefully on the chest, the shoulders, anywhere he wasn’t injured.

“How did you make it here so quickly?” Lotor asked.

“What are we, stupid?” Acxa demanded as she set her hands on her hips. “We knew you’d come here no matter what. Black Lion!” she said, turning to slap Shiro in the shoulder. “How could you let him? You’re supposed to be the smart one!”

“It’s not my place to let him do anything,” Shiro said with a shrug. “It’s my place to stand by his side and go where he goes.”

“So you remembered your vows, then,” Narti signed with a smile.

Lotor blushed and Ezor winked at him when she noticed.

“We’d better go,” Lotor said. “We’re already cutting it close. But- I’m glad you could all be here with me.”

The six of them made their way up the mountain and by nightfall they were walking out into a flat clearing. Shiro’s palm was sweating as he took in the dozens of Galra soldiers and generals standing assembled before a pool of ominous purple fire. There was a raised dais behind it, and then a tall wide staircase leading to something like an empty cauldron standing before a backdrop of two obsidian pillars. An old man stood at the top almost like he was guarding the cauldron and Shiro couldn’t help staring as he recognized him. It was the man who’d performed their marriage ceremony.

Two giant Galra fighters were already dueling on the raised dais but Shiro could hardly spare them any mind with the way the assembled crowd whispered and parted as Lotor’s entourage entered the clearing. Lotor ignored them, walking with a strength Shiro marveled at. He was running on little sleep and meager food and dealing with serious injuries on top of it all. And yet he made the perfect picture of a prince, a king. Even with his hair stained with dried blood and wearing only Shiro’s cloak over his naked and bandaged torso he managed to look regal just in the way he held himself, the way he regarded the proceedings before him.

As they got closer the whispers got louder, and then one of the dueling Galra slashed the other in the chest and kicked him off the raised dais. The victor straightened, breathing hard as he flicked blood off his sword.

Lotor’s eyes widened in shock and Shiro froze as he stared. It was Sendak. He was alive- or alive enough to be here, at least. His skin was ashy and gray, almost looking brittle in the harsh firelight. His lips were dry and his hair lank. His eyes were oddly bright, like they were glowing with some unholy inner light.

“The witch,” Lotor whispered. “I knew I should have-”

“Lotor!” Sendak called out with a nasty smirk. “I’m surprised you have the balls to show your face here after what you’ve done.”

“I’ve come to claim my throne,” Lotor announced.

Sendak laughed. “You deserve to be drawn and quartered, a traitor’s death. But I suppose this will do just as well. Come then- come up and take your throne.”

Lotor shivered, his hand tightening over his reins. There was no way he could defeat Sendak now- not while he could barely move his right arm, barely move at all with the way his back was torn up. And yet he made to step forward anyway.

Shiro set a hand on his shoulder to stop him and Lotor glanced over at him, his eyes full of fear and anger and despair mixed together into something devastating. Shiro squeezed his shoulder reassuringly and gently pulled him back.

“You’ve already killed him once,” Shiro said. “I think I deserve a turn.”

He didn’t wait for Lotor to agree before drawing his sword and striding up to face Sendak on the raised dais.

“You?” Sendak asked incredulously. “You’re not Galra- you can’t be King.”

“Oh, I know,” Shiro said. “I stand before you as Prince Lotor’s champion. You might recall we made vows to that effect? You were there, I think.”

Sendak laughed, throwing his head back. “You think reciting some pretty words gives you the right to-”

“Those vows date back to the founding of the Galra Kingdom,” the old man interrupted from the top of the stairs, his voice carrying eerily through the clearing. “Back to when Prince Zorak of Narzea married Sir Vren of Briht, cementing the peace between their warring clans and ushering in the golden age of the Galra- centuries of peace and prosperity.

“Both being men, they could not have natural born heirs- and their love for each other ran too deep for either to sire children upon anyone else. And so they established the Kral Zera to determine the line of succession- so that only the most worthy would rule, not just those who happened to be born with royal blood.”

The old man stopped as everyone stared up at him in shock. “You all may have forgotten your history, but as the Archivist it is my place to remember. Prince Lotor and General Shirogane made their vows before the royal court as well as the icons of Prince Zorak and Sir Vren themselves. Their marriage is valid according to Galra law. General Shirogane is well within his rights to serve as Prince Lotor’s champion in this, and in all other matters.”

Shiro remembered the book he’d found and wondered if it had all been true, or just the broad strokes of it. He remembered the stained glass window in the throne room depicting two warriors- one in red and the other in gold. Most of the Galra Shiro had met had such disdain for love between two men, and yet it had been there all along- looming over Zarkon’s back and at his feet, the foundation upon which their Kingdom was built. It would be funny if it wasn’t so tragic. He looked down at Lotor, surrounded by his generals, and threw him a reassuring smile.

“Fine,” Sendak spit out. “I’ve bested you before and I’ll best you again. And then I’ll kill you, him, and all his rats and bitches.”

“That’s an impressive to-do list,” Shiro said mildly as he took up his fighting stance. “Let’s tackle it one task at a time.”

Sendak roared in anger as he charged and Shiro’s world focused in on just the two of them, his mind growing blank as he let his instincts and muscle memory take over. He sidestepped Sendak’s charge, turning to nick him in the back of the knee as he went past. It was barely more than a scratch but satisfying all the same. A promising start.

It was true that Sendak had bested him on the battlefield- but that had been after hours of fighting, weeks and even months of poor rations, cold tents, bitterness and fear. Shiro had been on the verge of completely losing his resolve, running on pure desperation and a desire for retribution, self destruction.

Now everything was different- now he was fighting for a shining future with hope in his heart. He was fighting for peace between Galra and Alteans, for prosperity and joy, and maybe even more than that- he was fighting for Lotor.

Shiro parried Sendak’s next few wild slashes, smiling grimly as Sendak’s expression slowly turned from smug satisfaction to concern. He’d been expecting a quick victory- he’d been expecting his duel with the _cripple_ to be fast and easy, just a stepping stone to the next.

Shiro ducked under another slash and turned his sword up to score a hit on Sendak’s chest. The tip of his sword threw up sparks as it scraped over Sendak’s breastplate, slipping to the side to bite deeply into Sendak’s arm. Sendak hissed and drew back, black blood seeping slowly from the wound. Whispers rose through the clearing at the unnatural sight. Maybe they could have told themselves that Sendak’s glowing eyes were just a trick of the light, his gray skin just a sign of stress and exhaustion. But this- black blood dripping sluggishly down his arm like syrup, this they couldn’t ignore.

Sendak gritted his teeth and tightened his grip on his sword, but he seemed shaken by the whispers of witchcraft, by the way the Galra were drawing back from him. His eyes were wide as he glanced between the audience and Shiro, standing before him.

“It’s over, Sendak,” Shiro said quietly. “Even if you defeat me- they won’t follow you.”

Sendak didn’t answer, renewing his attack. Shiro avoided his blows, though it was getting harder with each moment. Maybe it was the witchcraft running through Sendak’s veins, but he was relentless. Each strike was harder and wilder than the last and Shiro felt himself tiring, growing slower. This needed to end soon or he’d be in real trouble. He couldn’t move fast enough to avoid the next blow and raised his sword to parry. The strength of the hit jarred his arm and shoulder and he yelled in pain, dropping his sword in shock and only barely managing to throw himself out of the way of the next strike.

“Shiro!” Lotor cried out and Shiro briefly met his eyes. Sendak was standing between him and Lotor, backlit by purple fire. He grinned cruelly.

“What were you saying, Black Lion?” Sendak asked. “It’s over, is it?”

“Yes,” Shiro said. “It’s over for you.”

He spun out of the way of Sendak’s next attack and threw himself forward, shoving Sendak _hard_ in the chest with his shoulder. Sendak gasped as he overbalanced and staggered backwards a few steps. Not waiting for him to recover, Shiro bent to pull the dagger out of his boot and moved to slash at Sendak’s throat, throwing up a spurt of foul black blood. Sendak sputtered wetly, his eyes wide with shock and fear, and Shiro straightened before kicking him in the torso, shoving him backwards again, off the raised dais.

Sendak made a strangled sound as he lost his footing and fell into the pool of fire, writhing for a few long moments before growing still, nothing but a corpse collapsing into ash. Breathing hard, Shiro stared into the flames, his heart thundering in his chest. Surely that was enough to break the witch’s spell. Surely there was no coming back for Sendak now.

Nothing happened- no wights rose to challenge him, no witchcraft rose to envelop him. Slowly Shiro looked up to take in the assembled crowd. He saw Lotor first, staring up at him in something like awe. And then the generals- Acxa grinning as the purple firelight danced in her eyes, the others looking equally pleased. Shiro could make out other familiar faces among the crowd. Kolivan and Antok were standing at the edge of the clearing with Ulaz beside them, looking pale with his arm in a sling but otherwise unhurt.

Thace was close by, his men dispersed throughout the crowd. There were others, too- men whose names Shiro didn’t know but whose faces he recognized from the town in the hidden valley, young Blades and warriors, Lotor’s people.

“Would anyone else like to challenge me?” Shiro yelled, his heart singing with joy. He already knew that no one would. There was only silence and Shiro slowly wiped his dagger off on his pant leg before sliding it back into the sheath in his boot. He picked up his dropped sword and put that away as well before stepping off the dais.

There were torches laying beside the pool of fire and he took one and lit it before walking over to offer it to Lotor.

Lotor stared at him in a stupor and then grinned and stepped forward to take Shiro’s face in his hands and press a firm kiss to his lips. He was still smiling when he pulled back and took the torch. Shiro offered him his arm and they walked up to the dais and ascended the steps together. There was absolute silence as Lotor tipped the torch into the cauldron and the eternal flame burst into glorious life.

“The flame has been lit!” the Archivist announced, raising his arms. “Bow to your King- King Lotor!”

Shiro and Lotor turned as one to look down into the clearing.

“Long live the King!” Acxa shouted, raising her fist to her chest and dropping to one knee. “Long live the King!” she repeated, and that time she was joined by the other generals and Blade of Marmora agents, their voices rising in a triumphant chorus. They continued to chant and slowly everyone else joined them until all were kneeling.

“Long live the King,” Shiro whispered into Lotor’s ear with a smile.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thank you to [Devils_Official](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devils_Official) for letting me use bits of the vows from [To Make Guilty of Our Disasters](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16382213/chapters/38342438) Which, if you haven't read it, is an epic Lotor/Sendak fic :)


	10. Epilogue

 

* * *

 

 

“Princess Allura.” Shiro greeted her with a small nod as she entered the throne room. “Coran. Keith.”

Keith frowned and stayed silent but Shiro was relieved he’d come at all. Keith’s frown grew deeper as he saw Acxa standing at Shiro’s right shoulder and Kolivan at his left. Of course- he didn’t know about the Blades and their relationship with Lotor. It must have been a shock for him to see a man he’d thought was his ally standing amidst his enemy’s court.

“General Shirogane,” Allura said politely. “It’s good to see you’re well. I’ll admit- we were surprised to receive your invitation.”

“I’m quite well,” Shiro said with a smile. “And now that Zarkon’s reign has ended and King Lotor’s has begun- I’m pleased to renegotiate the relationship between our kingdoms.”

“So you really are one of them now,” Keith muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’d thought once Zarkon was gone you’d be finished with this act.”

“It’s not an act, Keith,” Shiro said firmly. “We love each other.”

Keith’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open in shock, a faint blush staining his cheeks. Everyone else shifted awkwardly and Shiro smiled, looking back to Princess Allura.

“Are you tired from your journey or would you like to proceed directly to the council chambers?”

“Let’s proceed,” Allura said with a nod, the very picture of a perfect diplomat.

“Please, this way,” Shiro said, offering her his arm. He led her away, hoping the members of their delegations- although mostly just Keith and Acxa- would play nice during the walk.

“Will King Lotor be joining us?” Allura asked.

“I’m afraid he’s indisposed at the moment,” Shiro said. “But I assure you- I’m authorized to make decisions in his stead on this and any other matters.”

“I see,” Allura said. “That will be fine.”

It took over an hour for them to systematically dismantle the harsh terms of the previous treaty, and then at least three more to establish new policies on trade, troop movements, borders. By the time they’d finished, Acxa had nodded off at least half a dozen times where she was sitting sprawled in a chair with one of her knees leaning up against the table. Keith wasn’t doing much better, sitting with his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes heavy lidded. Kolivan and Coran had gone off on some tangent about supply lines and spy networks but Allura smiled up at Shiro as she pushed herself away from the table.

“I find this agreement quite promising,” she said quietly as she set her hand on Shiro’s shoulder. “You know I trust you fully, Shiro,” she added, lowering her voice further until Shiro had to lean in to hear her. “But between you and me- can I trust _him?_ Will he hold to this agreement?”

“Yes,” Shiro said. “Undoubtedly- yes.”

Allura grinned and suddenly she seemed her age for once- a young woman full of joy, not a Princess burdened by the needs of her people.

“I’ve kept you all here long enough,” Shiro said, smiling back. “Now that our work is finished Acxa and Kolivan can show you to your rooms. You can get some rest, something to eat if you’d like. We’ve planned a bit of a celebration for the evening, though I couldn’t tell you what it entails. Ezor and Zethrid were put in charge of it- so it could really be anything. You’ll want to be rested, I’m sure.”

Acxa jerked to her feet at the sound of her name, yawning and rubbing at her eyes. “They said something about a knife throwing competition,” she muttered. “And… a pie contest?”

“What sort of pie contest?” Coran asked, perking up with interest. “Eating? Baking? Throwing?”

Acxa shrugged. “Could be anything.”

“I’ve won quite a few pie contests in my day,” Coran said thoughtfully, offering Acxa his arm even as Kolivan offered his to Princess Allura. “Mostly eating, but a few of the other types as well. Why, I’ve even won a pie-stacking contest once, though that was on a technicality…”

His voice grew quieter as he and Acxa followed Kolivan and Allura out of the room, leaving Shiro staring uncertainly at Keith.

Keith sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. “Did you mean it?” he asked at last, looking up into Shiro’s eyes. “When you said you loved each other?”

“Yes,” Shiro said softly, not sure how to decipher the expression on Keith’s face.

“And you- you’re happy here? With him?”

“Yes.”

“Then…” Keith trailed off, looking down again. “Then I- I-” he swallowed loudly, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I guess I- I’m happy for you. And I- I’m sorry. It’s obvious he was… he isn’t… he’s not what I thought. So. I’m sorry. Tell him I said that, alright?”

“I will,” Shiro said, smiling. “Would you come here already?” he asked, holding out his hand. Keith hesitated for a moment, and then he was striding forward to wrap his arms around Shiro and holding him tight. Shiro returned the embrace, setting his hand over the back of Keith’s head.

“I’m sorry,” Keith muttered again. “I was- I was so _angry._ And I thought- I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I was helping you, all of us.”

“I know,” Shiro said. “I’m glad you came, I’m glad to see you. It’s alright, everything’s going to be alright now.”

Keith pulled back at last, surreptitiously swiping at his eyes. “Mind showing me my room?” he asked with a small smile. “I could use a nap after all that.”

“Sure, Keith,” Shiro said, wrapping his arm around Keith’s shoulders. “Let’s go.”

 

* * *

 

Shiro stopped in at the kitchens to pick up a plate of dried dates stuffed with goat cheese and drizzled with honey before making his way up to the tower room Lotor had selected as their bedroom. The winding stair was lit by oil lamps like the kind back in the castle in the hidden valley, the familiar smell of lemon and pine soothing and fresh. When he reached the top he tried the door only to find it locked, which likely meant that Lotor was sleeping.

He was quiet as he unlocked the door and stepped inside, locking it again behind himself.

The tower room was small and open, warmly furnished with thick colorful rugs on the floor and tapestries on the walls. Lush potted plants hung from the ceiling, swaying gently in the pleasantly cool breeze blowing in through the open windows. The whole room was lit with golden afternoon sunlight, glinting off the elegantly bound books on the bookshelves, the various other beautiful trinkets decorating the space. A vase of pink flowers and a pitcher of clear water stood on the dining table and Shiro set his plate of treats down beside them before looking to the bed.

The rich red and gold curtains were pulled back and tied to the bedposts and Shiro couldn’t help his smile when he saw Lotor sleeping on his side burrowed into the crisp sheets. His hair was tied back into a loose braid, and judging by the bare shoulder peeking up past the blanket he was sleeping shirtless. He stirred and slowly opened his eyes, blinking a few times before smiling.

“Shiro?”

“Did I wake you?” Shiro asked as he moved to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Mmm,” Lotor murmured noncommittally. “It’s alright, I’ve been lazing around long enough.”

“How was your nap?” Shiro asked, smoothing his hand over Lotor’s shoulder and sliding it downward to run his fingers over the scars on his back. The skin there was still pink and new but he was mostly healed now, at last.

“Good,” Lotor sighed, leaning into the touch.

“How’s your back? Did you apply the salve?”

“Narti did it two hours ago.”

“And you’ve eaten?”

Lotor flopped over to his back to glare at him half-heartedly. “Does Dayak know you’re in here trying to steal her job?”

Shiro laughed and reached out to brush a loose lock of hair out of Lotor’s face. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I just- I worry.”

Lotor’s eyes softened and he smiled. “How was the meeting? What did they say?”

“Princess Allura was quite pleased with your terms.”

“Certainly, they’re excellent terms.”

“Don’t kid yourself, I know you were worried,” Shiro said. “But Princess Allura is a diplomat at heart- she’ll be a good partner going forward. Maybe we can even visit Altea one of these days.”

“Maybe,” Lotor said, still smiling. Shiro suddenly realized he was stroking the side of Lotor’s face and blushed as he pulled away, only for Lotor to grab his wrist and tug him down to lay on top of him.

“Hey,” Shiro laughed as Lotor wrapped both arms around him.

“I missed you,” Lotor said warmly.

Shiro toed his boots off and lay down more fully on the bed, still half on top of Lotor below him. “I saw you just five hours ago,” he teased. “And you’ve been asleep most of that time.”

“Still,” Lotor said with a sigh when Shiro pressed a kiss to his neck.

“Do you feel up to going to the party later?” Shiro asked, pulling back to look into Lotor’s eyes. “You don’t have to worry about Keith, he apologized. I think he’s going to behave himself.”

“Mmm,” Lotor hummed. “I don’t want to talk about Keith. I want you to make love to me.”

Shiro blushed at the hunger in Lotor’s eyes. “You’re sure you’re well enough?”

“Shiro,” Lotor said, rolling his eyes. “It’s been _weeks._ I’m fine.”

“Are you,” Shiro murmured, running his fingers down Lotor’s side to watch him shiver. He slipped his hand lower. His fingers slipped over Lotor’s naked hip and he hissed, shocked to realize Lotor wasn’t wearing anything at all beneath the blankets.

“Yes,” Lotor whispered, pulling him down for a kiss.

Shiro moaned as he deepened the kiss and felt Lotor meeting him, running his hands through Shiro’s hair. Lotor went to unbuckle Shiro’s belt and Shiro laughed quietly, bracing himself on his arm to raise himself up enough to give him space.

Together they managed to wrestle Shiro out of his clothes and then they were kissing again, sloppy and hot, desperate.

“Here, like this,” Shiro managed, pushing Lotor over to lie on his side while he pressed up behind him. He pulled the bottle of oil out of the nightstand and slicked his fingers before bringing them down and carefully pushing one inside.

Lotor moaned and shivered, clutching at the sheets and spreading his legs wider. Shiro pressed a kiss to the back of his shoulder as he remembered their first time doing this, how shy Lotor had been.

“Please,” Lotor breathed out desperately, not shy anymore, and Shiro grinned. This was so much better.

He pumped his finger in and out a few times before adding another, flushing at the way Lotor keened and pressed back against him. He was hot and tight inside, shifting restlessly as Shiro fucked him.

“Shiro-” he bit out.

“Hush, baby,” Shiro whispered into his ear. “Hush now, you’re alright. I’ll take care of you- I’ll give you what you want, once you’re ready.”

Lotor whimpered and held tighter to the sheets, breathing hard as Shiro moved inside him. After a while he added a third finger and Lotor cried out, his back arching in pleasure. Shiro had to close his eyes and bite his lip to control himself. All he wanted was to push inside _now_ , take Lotor and fuck him until he was screaming out his name- but this part was so good he wanted to draw it out too, wanted Lotor desperate and aching before he moved to fuck him for real.

“Shiro-” Lotor sobbed, turning to push his face into the pillow.

“Don’t hide,” Shiro murmured. “I want to hear you.”

He kept going for a while, twisting his fingers to stroke Lotor’s prostate so he could hear him moaning helplessly, but finally he couldn’t hold back any longer. He poured more oil over his cock before shifting to push himself inside.

“Ah!” Lotor cried out, tensing for a moment before he relaxed and shifted to take Shiro in easier.

“Oh,” Shiro gasped, his eyes fluttering shut as he gripped Lotor’s hip. “Yeah,” he breathed out, lost in the tight heat of Lotor’s body around him.

He thrust inside gently and Lotor cried out again, reaching back to hold on to him.

“Please,” Lotor sobbed, “Shiro- _please!”_

“Yeah,” Shiro managed as he set a steady rhythm, biting his lip so he wouldn’t lose himself. “How’s that? Is that good for you?”

Lotor was shivering around him, pushing back into his thrusts insistently. It was bliss and it lasted for ages as Shiro pressed his face to the back of Lotor’s neck, burying his nose in his hair. He smelled amazing, fresh and clean and warm in a way Shiro couldn’t entirely categorize.

As he rolled his hips Shiro felt his thoughts scattering, felt himself fading into shivering pleasure.

“Touch yourself for me, baby,” he managed, and moaned when Lotor brought his hand down to stroke himself.

“Please,” Lotor whispered, “keep going- please-”

“Yeah,” Shiro murmured, speeding up. “Like that?”

Lotor whimpered and pressed back against him and Shiro let himself go, let himself get lost in the heat and the pressure around his cock, in Lotor’s lithe body against him. His ears were full of Lotor’s whimpers and bit-off moans and it was glorious.

“Shiro!” Lotor cried out, his body spasming as he reached his release.

Shiro couldn’t help groaning loudly as he reached his own orgasm, hot waves of pleasure overwhelming him as he gripped Lotor’s hip, thrusting into him wildly now. He finished inside Lotor’s body with a sigh before pulling out slowly.

He let himself catch his breath for a moment before pressing a kiss to the side of Lotor’s neck, scraping his skin lightly with his teeth just to watch Lotor shudder.

“Alright?” he murmured.

Lotor laughed, the sound of it beautiful and clear.

“Yes,” he said, pressing back against Shiro’s weight behind him with a sigh. He turned his face to capture Shiro’s lips in a kiss and all of a sudden Shiro was lost again.

He let himself relax for a while before rising to get a washcloth and cleaning both of them off gently. He brought the plate of dates over after, setting them out over his lap so they were easily within Lotor’s reach

“What would you like to do now, my king?” Shiro murmured as he curled up against Lotor’s side.

“Hmm,” Lotor hummed, reaching out to pop a date into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “This, I suppose,” he said with a smile, raising his other hand to run his fingers through Shiro’s hair. Shiro couldn’t help laughing at how good it was, how decadent this all felt- eating treats in bed after making love with his husband, the gentle breeze blowing through the windows as the plants strewn about the room swayed in their hanging pots.

“And afterwards,” Lotor continued, “we’ll go feast and make merry.”

“Build a lasting peace between our kingdoms,” Shiro said with a smile.

“Your people are my people,” Lotor said. “Your honor is my honor.”

“And where you die I shall die,” Shiro finished. “And there I shall be buried.”

  


_fin._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a wild ride! Thank you all so much for reading, and thank you for all your amazing comments <3

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr at [barbitone](http://barbitone.tumblr.com/) and pillowfort also at [barbitone](https://www.pillowfort.io/barbitone)


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